Page 62 of The Duke of Kisses
“Just nice?” His fingertips traced along her throat, making circles as he moved lower. Her bodice was loose enough that he easily slid his hand beneath her clothing.
“It made me feel…wild. Passionate. I wanted you to touch it more.”
“How?” His lips and tongue kissed along her throat, sucking her flesh and sending shafts of heat directly to her sex.
“Harder. Without clothing.” She swore. “My corset is going to be in the way.”
“Turn.” He guided her to roll to her side, exposing her back to him once more. He loosened her gown even more, then pushed it down over her shoulders to her elbows. Then he loosened her corset and turned her back toward him. He tugged her sleeves down her arms until the gown was free from her torso.
She held her breath as his hand came up and slipped under her gaping corset and the chemise she wore beneath. He cupped her naked breast, then closed his fingers over the nipple. “Is this better?” he asked.
“Ohyes.” She closed her eyes and arched up from the ground, seeking more of his touch. He squeezed lightly, and she moaned, the seductive sound foreign to her ears.
She felt her garments tugged lower and then a wet sensation on her nipple. Opening her eyes, she saw his head bent over her. His tongue teased her flesh just before his mouth closed over the tip, and he sucked. Gently at first, then harder. Each sensation was new and spectacular, and she felt as though she might combust into a roaring flame.
Grasping his head, she tangled her fingers in his dark hair. He increased his speed and pressure, taunting her with his tongue and lips and even a graze of his teeth. There was a pause, and she opened her eyes.
He looked up at her, his eyes gleaming in the filtered light making its way through the willow branches. “Where else?”
There was no hesitation this time. She was too far gone to do anything but beg for release. “Between my legs,” she whispered.
Her gown began a slow rise over her calf and then her knee before sliding over her thigh. Cool air bathed her heated flesh.
His gaze never left hers as he settled the gown at her hips, exposing her. She felt reckless and shameless, and she didn’t care a whit. Nothing about this was wrong or bad. She loved him and he loved her, and nothing in her life had felt so perfect.
When his fingers stroked along her sex, she stopped thinking. Sensation took over, and she closed her eyes once more, instinctively opening her legs to his touch.
He teased her flesh with light brushes of his fingertips. “Is this where it aches, my love?” His voice was soft and urgent against her ear before he nibbled at the lobe, once again driving passion straight through her like an arrow finding its target.
“Yes.” Her breath came in short rasps as her heart thumped with desire. “More, please.”
“What about here?” He touched a spot at the top of her sex, rubbing and pressing. Lights danced behind her closed eyes, and the ache intensified. She was racing toward something.
“It’s like the phaeton race. There’s a finish line, isn’t there?”
“Most definitely. Would you like me to take you there?”
“Yes, please.”
“Will you let me do it with my mouth?”
Her eyes flew open, and she stared into his eyes. “You would do that?”
“Eagerly.” His stare was dark and provocative, his lips parted as he moved down her body. “Bend your legs.” He guided her to bend at the knees, and he settled himself between her thighs.
At first, he just continued to touch her, his fingers pressing on that delicious spot. “What is that?” she asked.
“Your clitoris. It’s very sensitive, as you’ve realized.” He stroked along her folds, his touch lightly probing.
She moaned, opening her legs even more. “Please, David.” She wanted to go faster. She wanted to reach the finish.
What had been slow and languorous suddenly became swift and desperate. His lips moved across her clitoris as his finger slid into her sheath. Her hips moved up off the ground, partly in surprise but mostly with need. This was what she wanted.
He stroked into her, filling her and enticing her—satisfaction seemed so near and then so far away. His hand left her, and he clasped her thighs, guiding them to his shoulders as his mouth opened over her sex. It was like when he kissed her, his lips and tongue licking and sucking, driving her to want more.
The pressure she felt built tighter and hotter, the excitement roiling as the finish came into view. She could sense it was close, her body quivering as his tongue delved deep inside her. He held her fast as her hips bucked up. She couldn’t seem to stop from moving. She needed to feel him, to welcome him, to own him.
One hand left her thigh, and then something—his thumb, maybe—pressed her clitoris. He moved her flesh, working her into a frenzy that was already upon her. She cried out as the pressure broke free at last.
