Page 52 of Married to the Forbidden Duke
His mouth was hot, lips moving against hers as she forced his mouth open and plunged her tongue inside. She needed him to show her the way on this mysterious journey into intimacy, but she refused to let him be the one to hold the reins.
In this, in everything they did, she needed to have control.
“Alice…” he groaned against her as she dug her fingers into his hair and fisted them, holding him in place as she licked along his bottom lip, then into his mouth. The first wet slide of his tongue against hers made heat erupt between her legs. The desire inside her turned hollow, and she ached, she ached, sheached.
Her leg, too, ached. When he’d carried her, she’d been so ready to dismiss it as a careless act designed to seduce her, but it would have been difficult for her to navigate the stairs, as tired as she was.
Not only had he noticed, but he had addressed the problem in a way that made her feel desirable instead of pitied. Every step of the way, he had never made her feel lesser because of her physical limitations.
And now, as he rested the heavy, muscular weight of his body against hers, she felt the hard press of his arousal against her thigh. His hands traveled down her sides, into her hair, fingersskimming the sides of her breasts—never quite venturing there. Her nipples pinched, and she inhaled sharply as he almost came close enough to touch them.
Almost. Not quite. She drowned in thealmosts.
He broke the kiss and stroked her hair back. So much tenderness there in that single gesture. The angry, bitter part of her chest burned in resentment that he thought he could treat her in such a way after he had hurt her so badly, but another part of her—the part cultivated by his sweetness—rejoiced.
“I haven’t forgotten about your leg,” he murmured, kissing her neck, her collarbone, then the soft swell of her breasts.
Alice shivered. “What leg? I don’t think I have legs. Ignore it.”
He chuckled, hands sliding down her arms to her hips. He climbed down her body, and despite the impressive bulge at his breeches, he reached for her leg, drawing her skirts up past her knees and exposing her stockings. After tossing her shoes aside, he rolled her stockings down and placed her leg in his lap. He showed no signs of disgust, merely stroking his hand up and down the gentle curve of her calf.
“Frederick, you don’t—”
“Much as I like it when you say my name,” he whispered, a small smile curving his mouth, “I can feel how tight this is.” He dug his fingers into a knot she didn’t even realize she had, and a gasp lefther throat. He closed his eyes, fingers still working her. “And I particularly like it when you do that,” he grinned devilishly.
Having his hands on her like that felt so good, even though this particular touch wasn’t sexual. At least, it wasn’t directly so. He took her foot and rolled it in every direction, his fingers gentle, easing, listening for her reactions to know if he caused her pain. Somehow, she knew all this about him.
At first, she might have thought this all came from guilt, but guilt did not induce a man to dedicate such time to making her feel this good. This was not guilt alone, though she didn’t doubt for a second that hedidfeel guilty.
Her foot brushed against the bulge in his breeches. He paused for a fraction of a second, his face going blank as he staved off whatever reaction that brought around. And, instead, continued his massage, shifting her leg back slightly so it wasn’t in danger of happening again.
But Alice discovered she liked when he had to fight for control, and when it was so obvious that he was enjoying doing this to her—well, she wanted to encourage that enjoyment. So she pushed her foot back, moving it slowly against his length.
A gentle pressure, that was all she could handle.
Yet still, his nostrils flared and he grunted in the back of his throat. He twitched against her, an unconscious encouragement of her treatment.
Well, who was she to deny him? She did it again, and his gaze found hers.
“Alice…” he rasped.
The sound of his torment unlocked something inside her, and she unraveled, the heat in her core rising until she could feel it liquid and messy between her legs. She throbbed with need, just as she had before, but this time—this time, it would be different.
He would show her everything. She would not allow him to do anything else.
“Come here,” she murmured, opening her arms again.
To her surprise, he lifted her leg, pressing a kiss to her calf before placing it down again and crawling over her. This time, however, he hovered over her, looking down into her face as though searching for something.
“What are you waiting for?” she demanded, her patience stretched thin.
He grinned, as though moments ago he had not been groaning at the slightest brush against his erection. “Just appreciating the moment.”
“Well, appreciate it faster!”
He chuckled and bent his head to graze his nose across her cheek. “Impatient, my sweet?”
“Toy with me, and I’ll make sure you regret it.”
