Page 29 of The Duke Who Dared Me
She shook her head, wiggling against him once more.
“Later, Bug.Sit up for now.”He pulled her hand on his shoulder and pressed against her wrist.Suddenly, the room was brought back into focus, and she was there with him and not stuck spiraling with her thoughts.
His hand slipped under her shift and slipped up her thigh, climbing higher until his fingers brushed against her soft curls.“Here,” he said, his voice rough.His eyes met hers, pinning her there.It was almost like he held her in reverence, that look in his eyes, soft and unguarded.
Alistair slowly pushed his fingers through her folds and circled the small bundle of nerves at her apex.
This time, she was not quiet when she whimpered.
“Do you like that?”he asked again.
She rocked her hips, desperate for his fingers to move against her once more.There was nothing delicate or polite as a fire built within her.Alistair continued circling his thumb against her, and she was panting and hot, and that ache in her body built to something as insufferable as it was heavenly.
This.Her body was capable of this?
“Give me your hand.”
Maybe he repeated himself, she couldn’t remember, only realized his hand pulled away long enough to circle her wrist, before he joined their hands and placed them again between her thighs.
“You’re close.Keep going.Claim it, love.”
She rocked her hips against him and continued the same motion Alistair had maintained.
“You’re gorgeous,” he whispered.“Go on, Verity.”He kept whispering such beautiful praise.Her heart raced until, finally, that strange pressure mounted, and then pleasure struck hard and fast, racing through her body.
She cried out, startled.It was like nothing she’d expected.It had been wild and hot, and she bit back another cry and gripped his shoulder with her free hand until everything within her tightened.
Verity shattered against his fingers.
He swore softly against her skin.
She blinked, dazed, unsure what had just happened until he dropped his head against the lumpy bed pillow with a sound that was half laugh, half moan.
“Oh,” she whispered, realizing.
He didn’t answer at first.Only wrapped his arms around her and held on, his breath still unsteady.
She should’ve felt awkward.Embarrassed.But instead, a strange warmth bloomed in her chest.
Because in all the ways that mattered, they’d both come undone.
* * *
She was quiet now,curled against his chest, her breath uneven, fingers light on the curve of his ribs.
Alistair forced himself to breathe through it.God, he was wrecked.
Her touch lingered, a whisper of warmth against his skin.Memory washed over him.Her hips rolling under his hands, the wet heat of her on his palm, the desperate, beautiful sounds she’d made when she shattered against his fingers, all of it pulsed through him in one slow, unbearable wave.
But he wasn’t going to do this.He couldn’t lose what little control he had left.
Instead, he tucked her closer and pressed a kiss to her hair, willing his body to behave.
“Are you all right?”His voice was low, rough.
She nodded against his chest.“Mmm.”
“Do you need anything?Water?A blanket?”His voice steadied, though the ache in his groin pulsed sharp and insistent.He’d take care of himself later.
