Page 18 of Garnish with a Candy Cane
I’m not sure if I should laugh or argue with him now that I understand why he’s so mad. The ferocity of his voice overwhelms me from his dominance. Yet I can’t give in to his every demand either. I’m not a pushover. “I have to. It’s required.”
“Fuck that. You’re quitting.”
Okay, I can’t keep myself from giggling from his reddened face and hand pushing through his thick black hair. His brown eyes darken from my laugh, and he closes the already slight space between us, boxing me against the wall with his hard body brushing against mine.
“You think this is funny?”
His husky voice sounds more possessive than mad and my innocent body betrays my logical mind by tingling in the best places. I refuse to let his guttural tone make me forget what I’m doing. What I want. What I’m obligated to do. I look up to him and meet his gaze with my own determination. I open my mouth to argue and he rubs his rough thumb across my lips distracting me. Darn it! I hate that I love when he does that.
“Do you think it’s funny some asshole is going to see what’s mine? That he’s going to wish you were his and never, ever will be? That I’m going to have to fucking gouge out the eyes of every bastard who looks at you?”
Oh my. Why are his terrible words such a turn on? Why am I aroused when I should be terrified? Why are we alone in my apartment with only thin clothes separating us from a craving neither of us can seem to resist? “Duke, I–”
“So damn perfect.”
The last words he whispers before his lips crash into mine. Demanding entry with a powerful tongue sweeping across my sensitive skin he consumes me just like I knew he would when I allow him admittance to my mouth and my heart.
My bra strains from my nipples hardening and my thong soaks from my arousal. I’ve never been kissed like this. Heat and desire explode inside me, and I grab onto his lapels while he devours me. I’m immobile with his hands grasping my face, angling my head so he can plunge in deeper and every irrational fiber of my being loves the feeling.
Suddenly, he releases me and steps back. Panting as he peruses me again. Huge hands glide around my waist and a moan I don’t expect sneaks out of my throat from his scorching skin caressing over mine.
Until he rips my skirt in two and tosses the destroyed pieces of fabric onto the floor. Urgent fingers slide to my butt, and he lifts me up, wrapping my legs around his torso. Oh. Shit. “What’re you doing?”
“I need to see more. I need to see all of you.”
Breathless I don’t stop him as he carries me into my bedroom and lays us down on the bed. I’m powerless against his heavy weight yet don’t feel scared. Confused by his sudden manhandling, I’m angry at myself from my lack of will power to tell him no. I won’t let this go too far but I want another taste. I want to enjoy the feeling of being so wanted. No one’s ever craved me the way Duke does.
He rests on his forearm and strokes down my side from my panties to my knee. “Jesus Noelle. You’re so fucking gorgeous.”
Swoony from his compliments I grin up at him like a silly fool. What girl wouldn’t want to hear the sexy way he talks to me? “Thank you.”
“No Duchess. Thank you.”
He kisses me again, long and deep. So powerful I can feel the frame under my cheap mattress as he presses me down. His mouth moves to my neck, and I feel so wanton when my hips lift against him.
“Jesus. Look what you’re doing to me.”
I follow his gaze to where we’re joined in the most intimate of ways without fully making love. His penis strains against his pants so much the outline lays nestled between my lips, puffy against the damp fabric. Normally I would already be dead from embarrassment that I’m obviously wet for him, but his groan and slight thrusts running the hardness over my clit makes me feel more alive than I’ve ever been.
Swear words blister against my shoulder when I rock against him, and he fervently licks from my throat to the hollow of my breasts. I’m not even sure when I lost my top. The pleasure of his thumb on my nipple confirms my bra is gone too.
Five minutes. I swear to goodness I’ll make him stop in five minutes. I’ll be rational in five minutes. I’ll set him straight in five minutes. Seriously, for now though, I just want to enjoy whatever the heck he’s doing to my breasts that’s making me cry out in a voice I don’t recognize as mine. He chuckles as he moves down my stomach when I tug on his jacket to keep him close. Suckling my skin until he reaches my scar. He kisses the thick red line before delicately tracing from one end to the other with his rough finger.
“What happened here? You never told me.”
His question brings me back to reality, and I release the thick cashmere of his coat I’ve been grasping in my frantic ecstasy. I guess I tense, and he lifts his head, studying me as I try to relax. I must fail because he climbs back up my body so our faces are only inches apart yet he still reverently rubs the thick line. “I got it from the car accident that killed my parents. I was two and buckled tight in a car seat so I survived. But the crash was really bad and they didn’t make it.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Me too. I was lucky to have grandparents who took me in. They gave me a wonderful childhood.”
He nods as if he understands although his expression remains thoughtful. “I can see why you’re so devoted to her, just like she was to you.”
“Exactly.”
Finally, he comprehends what I’ve been trying to help him realize all this time. “That’s why you don’t want to disappoint her, and I’m being the asshole trying to get you to.”
I can’t help but smile at his quasi apology. I doubt a man like him ever has to say he’s sorry, so he’s not very good at showing his regret. Although he’s also not the only guilty person in this situation. I caress over his cheek, strong and sexy with the scruff along his jawline. “Well you are very tempting but I can’t lie and say that I don’t enjoy being tempted.”
