Page 64 of The Duke of Lies
What was stopping him? She’d have to unbraid it when she awakened anyway. Or so he thought since he’d never seen her in a braid except when she was prepared for bed.
He untied the ribbon at the end and set it behind him. Then he carefully worked his fingers through the braid, unwinding the locks with care and relish. She stirred in his embrace, sighing softly as she pressed back against him.
The contact of her backside with his cock brought it fully erect. He finished unbraiding her hair and buried his face in the dark curls.
“What are you doing?” she asked, her voice low and heavy with sleep.
“Reveling in you.” He found her neck and kissed her repeatedly, moving his lips along her flesh and feeling her shiver.
“That’s a very flattering thing to say.”
He moved his hand to her breast and cupped the warm globe before using his fingers and thumb to tease her nipple. “And what will my flattery earn me?”
She gasped softly as she wriggled her backside against him. “Nothing. I don’t trade myself for pretty words. But since I know you’re a man of more than just pretty words—” She broke off in another gasp as he trailed his hand down over her abdomen and stroked between the folds of her sex.
“Sometimes I prefer not to talk at all,” he murmured against her neck before he suckled her flesh. He pressed his finger into her sheath and felt her contract around him. She was so very responsive—hot and wet and eager. He could just slide right into her. He moved his lips to her ear. “Is this all right?”
“No.”
He stopped his hand and began to withdraw.
She turned in his arms. “Don’t stop. It’s more than all right. But it’s also not enough.” She shook her head. “I’m terrible at this.”
“Not true.” He kissed her, smiling against her mouth. “You’re wonderful at this.”
She looked into his eyes, her irises dark. “I want to be. Show me.” She rolled him to his back and moved onto his chest, splaying her hands over his nipples.
When she touched him, hell when she looked at him with that half-seductive, half-inquisitive stare, it was as if he were a young lad who’d never yet known a woman. As if he were a man who’d been too long without a woman, a sensation he was familiar with. But it was more than that. He’d been with many women who’d slaked the thirst of a long drought. Verity was wholly different.
She lifted her head to press her lips to his. “Can I be…on top of you like this?”
“You can be wherever you like.” He kissed her back, snaring her lips and tongue in a blissful tangle. Putting his hands on her waist, he pulled his mouth from hers. “It’s easiest if you sit up.”
She rose from his chest and straddled his hips. “Like this?”
“Yes, just like that.” He couldn’t keep from staring at her breasts and the way they swayed as she moved. Round with pert, dark rose-brown nipples, they captivated him completely.
“Kit.”
He heard the frown in her voice and jerked his gaze to her face. “Mmm?”
“Is it really easier for me to sit up, or do you just prefer this view?” She arched her brows at him as she took her hands and cupped the underside of her breasts.
Dear God, but the sight of her touching herself was almost his undoing. “It’s, er, both.” His voice sounded strained, as if he were holding on to the mast in the midst of a thunderous storm. “Could you, ah, keep doing that?”
“What?” She caressed her flesh, making her breasts move. “This?”
Blood rushed to his cock. “Yes. That. And maybe touch your nipples. If it’s not too much trouble.”
She blushed, hesitating before she pinched her thumb and forefinger together over each nub. “Like this?”
“God, yes. And pull them, just a bit.”
She did, tugging her flesh and holding on.
He struggled to take a deep breath and simply couldn’t. “Does that feel good?” He barely recognized the sound of his own tortured voice.
“Yes, but not as good as when you do it.” Her tone had also lowered to a husky rasp. “But the way you’re looking at me—”
