Page 43 of The Duchess in His Bed
The words were nearly his undoing, almost had him spilling his seed then and there. He’d never ached with such need.
Bringing her to her feet, he clasped her to him and tumbled them both onto the bed.
They were a tangle of limbs, and it felt wonderful. The front of her, every inch, was touching his skin. Flesh against flesh, heated and dewy. Taking her mouth, plundering, he rolled her onto her back, wedging himself between her thighs, his thick cock pressing against her cleft.
It seemed wicked to use that word—cock—but she didn’t think any other would do him justice, would adequately describe that portion of him that would soon be entering her. Never before had she looked so forward to the joining.
But it seemed he was not yet done denying her, tormenting her, because he pushed himself down until he could take one of her nipples in his mouth. His tongue laved the little pearl, causing delicious sensations to swarm through her. Then he suckled gently, before taking his lips on a tour about her breast, kissing the underside, the sides, the top. So much attention given to the one while his hand tenderly kneaded the other.
He reversed his attentions, giving his mouth to the other breast, while his fingers toyed with the one now coated in dew. She loved the feel of his rough palms skimming over her flesh with purpose. He’d touched much of her before, but not all of her, and now every aspect was laid bare before him and was his for the taking.
And he took.
With his mouth, his hands, his lips, his tongue. He scooted down farther and treated her to the same ministrations he’d given her when she’d been splayed out on the billiards table. Where the intimacy of it had shocked her before, now she embraced it with full fervor, tilting her hips to give him easier access, welcoming his throaty moan of approval.
She clutched his shoulders as her thighs began to tremble with want, with need. So close, so close. She thrashed her head from side to side, pressed her feet to his calves, loving the feel of his silky hair against her soles. But then there was no aspect to him that she didn’t love.
Combing her fingers through his hair, she knotted them in the strands, tugged until he lifted his head to meet her gaze. “I want you inside me, part of me, when I come undone.”
With a low growl, he raised himself up and rolled off her. Sitting on the edge of the bed, he opened a drawer in the small table beside the bed, pulled something out, and used it to cover his cock.
“What are you doing?”
“Putting on a sheath.” He came back to her and nuzzled her neck. “It’ll stop my seed from spilling into you without my having to leave you first.”
She tried to make sense of his words, but he began doing deliciously wicked things with his fingers, stroking her cleft as his thumb pressed against her swollen nubbin while circling it. Once more the sensations took precedence, claimed her full attention, had her writhing with need.
He shifted until he was once again resting between her thighs. Taking hold of himself, he rubbed against her with the head of his penis, over and over, and she was frantically aware of how wet she’d become. Stilling at her opening, he claimed her mouth and slowly eased his way into her, stretching her, filling her, before plunging deep.
A shudder of pleasure swept through her. “Oh God.”
She dug her fingers into his backside, holding him as she absorbed the wonder of it all. She was not a virgin, and yet what she felt at that moment was nearly foreign to her. Apparently not all mating was the same. Or perhaps it was because he had caused her to want him so desperately. He made her nerve endings sing, her skin more sensitive to the touch. He’d prepared her as she’d never before been prepared.
He had not taken her because of duty. And he made her forget that it was duty that had driven her to him.
As he began to move against her, leaving her only to quickly thrust back into her, she focused on him, on them, seeking only the pleasure he could provide. She skimmed her hands along his back, taking note of the way his muscles bunched and flexed with his movements. When he rose above her, captured her gaze, and undulated his hips with more force, more speed, more urgency, she fell into the smoldering darkness of his eyes, held on to him with arms, hands, thighs, and allowed ecstasy to conquer, to reign.
When she fell apart in his arms, she welcomed the bliss, knowing he had the power to put her back together.
When he threw back his head, his jaw clenched, as passion overcame him, she held him tightly, absorbing the spasms that rocked him.
And nearly wept for the joy of the joining.
Chapter 13
“Open your mouth.”
With her bare back against his chest and the water lapping around them with his movements, Selena didn’t hesitate to do as he bade. Taking a bite of the strawberry he placed against her lips, she laughed as the juice dribbled down her chin. With his thumb, he turned her head toward him and licked her clean before delivering a kiss that very nearly caused steam to rise from the tub.
After they’d made love, he’d called for a bath to be prepared. With sheets draped around her, she’d sat in a chair in the corner, facing the wall, nearly completely hidden from the servants who brought up the bathwater. Once they left, he shoved a small table against the large copper tub and brought in the offerings that had been laid out on the linen-covered table in the front room.
Reaching for the wine, she took a sip and considered her feelings at the moment. She most certainly could not claim disappointment, as she’d never felt more replete and had never before experienced such intense pleasure, but she was a bit frustrated to discover that Aiden was not going to give her what she needed as easily as she’d hoped. “I was quite taken aback when you... sheathed yourself. I wasn’t aware men did that.”
His fingers lazily trailed up and down her arm, sending delicious tingles through her. “No reason for your husband to do so. He’d want to get you with child.”
“Do you always don a sheath when you make love?”
“Always.”
