Page 80 of The Duke of Desire
She grasped the fabric and pulled it up, exposing her stockinged legs. Of course she wouldn’t shrink away. Not now. She was a strong, independent woman who’d made her own way. She’d been a victim at the mercy of others, but no more. She could choose her fate, and he was simply lucky enough to share it with her.
He traced his hand up her leg, curling it around her knee as he kissed along her calf. She leaned back and opened herself to him, lifting her clothing to her waist so that she lay completely exposed to his hungry gaze. She was exquisite, her legs pale and soft, but firm and muscular.
Pushing her legs apart, he feasted his gaze on the pink petals of her sex. He ran his thumb over the flesh, and she moaned. He looked up at her face. Her eyes were closed, her head cast back against the settee.
“Look at me, Ivy.” He pressed his thumb against her, finding her most sensitive spot.
Her eyes opened, but not much. Her tongue slipped over her lips as she looked down at him.
He worked her flesh with circular strokes. She was wet and ready for him, but he was going to give her pleasure first. He slipped his finger into her sheath, and she cried out, her legs clenching.
“West.”
Leaning forward, he suckled her clitoris, holding her hips as she bucked off the settee. His tongue replaced his finger and he fucked her with his mouth, sucking and licking,devouringher. He gave himself over to desire—not for his pleasure, but hers. He held her thighs apart and buried his tongue deep inside. She came up off the cushion, her hips moving wildly against his mouth.
His hips jerked in response, his cock aching to be free and buried inside her. Soon.
He used his fingers, pumping into her. She tried to be quiet, whimpering as he savaged her flesh again with his lips and tongue. And then her muscles stiffened as she came in a dazzling, shuddering crescendo.
He backed away and stood, then swept her into his arms.
She was still breathing hard, panting almost. “Where are we going?”
“To my bedroom.”
He carried her into the back corridor that the servants used and bore her up the stairs. His bedroom was to the right, and he managed to open the door while keeping her in his arms. Inside, he stood her near the bed.
He pulled off his coat and threw it to the floor, his eyes boring into hers. “Strip.”
He slipped his shoes off using his toes while he unbuttoned his waistcoat, his fingers moving deftly. She stood there staring at him, her cheeks flushed and her eyes still glazed from her orgasm. He arched a brow at her in challenge. “I’m going to win.”
She came alive then, kicking her shoes away, pulling her dress off, and then slipping her petticoat to the floor.
He shrugged out of his waistcoat and unknotted his cravat while she worked the ties of her corset. After a moment, she uttered a most unladylike curse. He smiled. “Do you require assistance?”
She scowled at him, but playfully so. “Yes.” Turning, she presented her back.
He dropped his cravat to the floor and pulled his shirt over his head, letting it fall from his fingertips. Then he went to work on her corset, loosening the laces enough so that he could tug it down over her hips and toss it aside.
She started to turn, but he clasped her shoulders and held her steady. “No. Stay there. Like that.”
He reached for the hem of her chemise and whipped it over her head before throwing it to the pile of clothes near their feet. “Put your hands on the bed.”
She flattened her palms against the coverlet. He traced his finger along her spine from her nape to the curve just above her bottom. Her perfect, round bottom that begged for his touch. He cupped each cheek and moved closer, bringing his groin against her flesh. She moaned as he pressed his cock, still shielded by his pantaloons, flush to her crease.
“Your hair,” he rasped. “Take it down.”
Her hands came up behind her, and she began tearing pins from her locks. The silky red-gold mass came loose, and the scent of her soap—lemon and spice—washed over him.
West unbuttoned his fall and shimmied from the pantaloons, then stripped his stockings away. Nude, he clasped her hips and lifted her slightly. “Part your legs.”
She did as he bade, and he slipped his cock between her thighs, teasing her. She bent forward over the bed and thrust her hips back toward him. Her legs parted wider as she ground down, seeking him to enter her. But he didn’t. He moved back and forth, slowly, taunting them both with what would happen next.
“Onto the bed,” he growled.
She clambered up and turned to her back before peeling her stockings from her legs and adding them to the pile on the floor.
He followed her onto the bed and stared down at her deliciously curved form. “You are so beautiful.” He stroked her breasts, caressing them softly at first before giving way to the primal need within him. He bent down and took one into his mouth, his tongue sliding over her puckered flesh before sucking on the red bud.
