Page 73 of The Duke of Kisses
Her eyes narrowed seductively. “Protective, then.” She shrugged the dressing gown from her shoulders, and the outline of her breasts as well as her nipples was clearly visible. “You’re mine.”
No words had ever stirred his desire more completely. With a growl, he laid her back on the bed and cupped her breasts. He dipped his head and took her nipple into his mouth, suckling her through the fabric and wetting it completely.
She gasped and thrust her hands into his hair, holding him against her. “Oh, David.”
He blew on the fabric as her nipple tightened, then held her more securely, enslaving her to his mouth. She arched up off the bed, her body begging for more as her heart beat a rapid rhythm beneath her breast.
“Take it off,” she urged. “I want to feel you against me.”
He stopped himself from ripping the garment in two, instead whisking it up over her hips. The dressing gown became tangled up with the night rail, making him groan in frustration. She took over and removed both garments entirely, then tossed them to the floor.
Her body lay naked before him—long limbs, curved hips, a delectable dip at her navel, and the pale globes of her breasts tipped with pink roses. He ran his thumbs over those flowers, stirring them into rigid peaks. Then he tugged them, eliciting the most delicious cry from her mouth. He pitched forward and devoured the sound with his mouth and tongue.
She clasped his neck, kissing him with wild fervor. She pulled at the collar of his shirt, then moved her hands down until she found the hem. Warm fingertips grazed along his abdomen as she stroked his flesh. He tore his lips from hers and kissed a path to her breasts, laving first one and then the other, drawing moans and cries from her mouth.
Her fingernails dug into his shoulders, and he realized she’d pushed his shirt up to his neck. He tugged it the rest of the way off, and she pulled him down on top of her so that her bare breasts pressed against his naked chest.
“I’ve wanted to feel this for so long.” She kissed his neck, his jaw, his mouth. Her hands plucked at the waistband of his breeches. “Can you take these off too?”
He pushed away from her and stripped them from his body as quickly as possible. Her gaze settled on his cock as he moved between her legs. “May I touch it?” she asked.
“Please.” He watched as she lifted from the bed and reached for him. Her fingertips grazed the tip, and blood instantly rushed to the head. Heat danced across his flesh and pooled in his gut.
“It’s wet,” she said, smoothing the moisture over him with her thumb.
“That’s a sign of what’s to come.”
“I’m wet too, I think.”
“God, Fanny, don’t ever stop talking to me like that.”
Her lips curved into a seductive smile. “Do you want to know how I know?”
Hell, yes. “Tell me.”
“Last night, I dreamed of you, and I woke up feeling feverish. Hungry. Desperate for you. I burned. Here.” She moved her hand from his cock to between her legs. “I pressed on that spot—my clitoris. It felt…good. Then I slipped my finger inside, like you did.”
“That’s how you know.”
“Yes.” She shocked him by doing what she’d just described.
He’d never seen a woman touch herself like that, let alone the woman who would be his wife.
“Don’t stop,” he rasped.
She didn’t, her finger stroking slowly in and out. He took her hand and moved her focus back to her clitoris, then entered her with his finger. Together, they worked, their breaths becoming louder and faster.
“Oh God, David. I’m going to come.”
“Did you come last night?” He had to know.
“Yes, but it wasn’t quite the same.”
He thrust two fingers into her and felt her muscles clench. Then he pulled away to guide his cock to her sheath, sliding in as her muscles began to spasm. She cried out and clasped his backside, digging her fingers into his flesh as she pulled him into her.
He drove deep, and her legs came up around him. He’d wanted to go slow, to be controlled, but she’d cast him to the edge of oblivion with her erotic demonstration. He was mindless with need, overcome with lust.
She moved her hips to meet his thrusts, and her mouth found his, her tongue seeking his as they fought the rising tide together. Her climax barely finished—or so he thought—before she seemed to climb again, her channel tightening around him.
