Page 57 of The Duke of Daring (The Untouchables)
“Good Lord, that was a revelation.”
He chuckled at her summarization—so matter-of-fact and yet so full of wonder. That was his Lucy.
His?
He sat back on his calves, and her gaze went directly to the tent his cock had created with the bottom of his shirt.
She licked her lower lip, and his cock twitched again. She was going to kill him.
“What about you?” she asked. “Aren’t you going to…” She used her eyes to indicate what she meant—wasn’t he going to put his cock inside her?
“I want to, but there are…concerns.”
She frowned, her brow furrowing. “Yes. But aren’t there precautions? I want to feel that.You.Can we do it just a little?”
She wanted to do it just a little? Hell and damnation, that was going to sorely tempt him, but he’d take a little of Lucy if that was all he could have.
“Are you certain?”
She sat up and put her palms flat on his thighs. Her eyes slitted. “Take off your shirt.”
Lust snaked through him. He tore off the garment and tossed it viciously aside.
She stared at his cock. “That’s, ah, impressive.”
“Lucy.”
She massaged his heated flesh, her fingertips digging into his hips. “Can I touch it?”
“You can do anything you want to it.”
She gave him a saucy look. “Anything?”
God, she was amazing. “Almostanything.”
She slid her hands up his thighs and clasped his hips. “Mmm.”
He worked to keep still lest he thrust toward her. He wanted her so very badly.
“I think I should start up here. You’re so muscular.” She ran her hands up his sides, her fingers splayed. She came up on her knees in front of him, her gaze connected with his. The more she touched him, the harder it was for him to keep his eyes open and not fall completely under her spell.
She kissed his jaw, his neck, his chest, exploring him as she likely did every other facet of her life.
“You have no fear, do you?” His question came out raspy and dark, almost broken.
“Not much. But I guess we have that in common.” She licked at his nipple. “Duke of Daring.” She closed her mouth over him, and he groaned. He twisted his hands in her glorious hair.
“Lucy, I’m ready.” He was more than ready.
“Not yet.” She inched back and skimmed her hand down the plane of his stomach until she found his shaft. “I haven’t doneanythingto this yet. What do you call it? My friend Ivy says that men have names for them.”
Good God, they discussed this sort of thing? “It’s just my, uh, cock.”
“Right. Cock.” The word tumbling from her mouth elicited another groan from him. Or maybe it was that her hand had closed around the base and was squeezing him gently. “Am I doing this right?”
“God, yes. You can…move your hand. If you like.” He prayed that she would like.
“Show me.”
