Page 53 of Never Dare a Duke
“You followed me?” she cried, horrified. Had he heard her questioning the old man?
“And now what am I supposed to think when I find you in my bedroom? That you’re only here to be kissed?”
“Teach me,” she whispered, licking her lips as she’d seen another woman do when a man was looking at her.
And it seemed to work, for his eyes focused on her mouth and seemed to blaze even hotter with dark passion.
“I can learn so much from you,” she added quickly. “Mama was too shy to speak of such things to me”—that wasn’t true, for she knew too well what the hard length she was feeling against her stomach was—“and you are the first man I’ve trusted to show me.”
“You trust me?” he said with a harsh laugh. “I don’t trustyou.And you want me to show you everything?”
She gasped. “Oh no, not—you know I cannot mean—relations!”
“Be quiet. I’ll give you what you want. For now.”
And then he kissed her, and it was full of wildness and fury and passion. She kissed him back, meeting his tongue, darting into his mouth with her own wicked curiosity. His hands had slid from her arms down her back, and were pressing her hips against his. She moaned into his mouth, letting her hands explore the hardness of his arms beneath his clothing, the powerful width of his chest.
He broke the kiss. “If you can touch me, then I can touch you.”
She didn’t understand what he meant—because of course they were already touching—but then he put his hands on her shoulders and slipped the capped sleeve and undergarment straps down her arm. The release of some support for her breasts made her suddenly feel very vulnerable, as if she’d lost control of her purpose.
“But—”
His clever hands slipped lower, and suddenly her breasts popped free of gown, corset, and chemise all at once. The expression of admiration in his eyes made her burn with pleasure, but she knew where this could lead. She used her arms to cover herself from him.
“No you don’t,” he said in a voice that rumbled deeply. “You wanted my help, my tutoring.”
“But no man would dare to—”
“All a man has to do is look at you so revealed in this gown, and this is what he’s thinking of. Didn’t you want me to look, Abigail?”
She bit her lip, and he gave a tight laugh.
“You wanted me to look at you in this gown. Here’s your first lesson. When you display yourself before men, this is what you’re inviting them to do.”
Although she struggled, he took one arm at a time away from her chest, twisting them very gently, but firmly, behind her. She was mortified to be so revealed to him. But she had pretended to offer herself by coming to his room, and now he was accepting.
She found herself slowly bent backward, felt the first heavy curl slip free from her head and glide down her shoulder. He moaned and pressed his face against that lone curl, inhaling deeply. He let his mouth follow the trail of her collarbone, then travel lower, pressing openmouthed kisses as he went.
She couldn’t seem to breathe, didn’t know what she was supposed to do as she hung against him, so vulnerable. She felt the roughness of his whiskers against her breasts when his chin touched her. It was awkward to keep watching him when her head wanted to fall back, but she had to see what he was doing.
“Madingley, please—”
“Christopher,” he breathed against her breast as he followed the curve to the peak. “Chris.”
And then he took her nipple deep into his mouth, and she convulsed in a shudder against him.
“Oh, Chris, oh—”
But she had nothing coherent to say, could hardly remember her own name, so deep did the pleasure of his mouth pull at her, tugging at intimate parts of her body that were slowly awakening. Though helpless and trapped, she needed to move, found herself pushing against him, rubbing, and all the while he did the most incredible things to her breasts. He took turns between them, alternatively licking at the peaks, then suckling her. Her legs could no longer support her, but her hands were suddenly free to grip his shoulders, to hold herself against him. He cupped her hips in his hands, lifted her so much that one foot came off the floor.
And that was when she knew there were even more wonders to come, for he pressed himself between her thighs, and though her petticoats and gown muffled some of the effect, just the pressure of him was enough to enflame an ache of longing in the depths of her belly. Then she realized he was moving quite deliberately, pressing and retreating, his body teasing her, his mouth encouraging her, all together lifting her higher and higher, shuddering against him—
And she was so afraid of giving in that she violently broke away from him and fell back on the edge of the bed. She scrambled to her feet, turning her back, trying desperately to push her overflowing breasts back into her tight clothes, but she could not.
She must have made a sound of distress, because he stepped nearer, and she could not help cringing away from him.
“You know I won’t hurt you,” he said in a low voice that ached with the same frustration now boiling through her veins. She’d been so close to knowing the pleasure that a man could give a woman.
