Page 52 of The Duke of Desire
“Red, just like you said.” He didn’t release her hand. “I’d like to watch you touch yourself first. Would you do that for me? That way I’ll know that you know what to do when I’m not here.”
She snapped her eyes open, simultaneously horrified and aroused beyond measure.
He locked his gaze with hers and turned her hand so that her fingertips were against the top of her mound. “Here. This is the spot.” He guided her index finger to find the small nub. “Do you feel that?”
She couldn’t speak. She couldn’t even nod.
He stroked her finger against her flesh. “Feel that? No, don’t close your eyes. Not yet. Look at me, Ivy.”
She fought to look at him, to keep the connection intact. It was the most intimate feeling she’d ever experienced.
“Move your thighs wider apart.” She did as he bade, helpless to deny him. Not that she wanted to. He used her fingers to massage her flesh, slowly at first and then more insistently. “Does that feel good?”
Somehow, she managed to nod. Need built to desire, and desire bloomed into lust. Her hips began to move. “More.”
“Yes, more.” He moved her hand faster. “That’s right. Take the pleasure.Seizeit.”
Pressure gathered between her legs, in her core, and she could no longer control her movements. She closed her eyes and cast her head back against the pillows. Then his finger took the next step, pressing inside her.
Ivy gasped, and her hand slowed.
“Don’t stop, Ivy. If you do, you won’t come. You want to come, don’t you?”
God, yes. If she didn’t, she really would die. His hand was gone from hers now, but she didn’t need him to show her. She stroked her flesh hard and fast, and he pumped his finger into her again.
It was all she needed. White light burst behind her eyelids as ecstasy crashed over her. She cried out, her body shaking with release.
But he wasn’t finished with her.
She felt wetness against her flesh and opened her eyes to see him bent over her. His mouth was on her, his tongue sweeping against her sex. “West!” He’d mentioned this, but she’d never imagined…
The orgasm that had crested over her faded, but the pleasure was still intense. And with each stroke of his tongue and suck of his mouth, the sensations intensified. He replaced his tongue with his finger and drove into her. She moved her hips more frantically than before, seeking another release.
He worked relentlessly, alternating his mouth and his hand. Then he turned her on the bed and put her legs over his shoulders, burying his face against her. She came again, her muscles clenching hard. Her body felt as if she had no control over it, and the freedom was marvelous.
It was several minutes—a lifetime it seemed, really—before she came back to reality. She was a quivering mass of jelly. She’d never imagined feeling such pleasure.
When she finally opened her eyes, it was to see him leaning against the bedpost, his lips parted as he stared down at her. She leaned up on her elbows. “Thank you.”
“You’re most welcome.”
She glanced down at the bulge in his pantaloons. “What are you going to do?”
He lifted a shoulder. “I’ll take care of myself after you go.”
Well, that seemed a pity. And she knew what to do. Her experience extended to helping Peter achieve release more than once behind the cowshed.
She sat up and moved toward him.
His eyes narrowed. “What are you doing?”
“Helping.” She reached for the buttons of his fall.
He put his hand over hers. “That isn’t necessary. This was about you. I made a promise to you. Tell me, did I deliver?”
Her body was still weak. And thoroughly sated. “More than.”
“Then I should help you dress.”
