Page 36 of Duchess in Disguise
Isobel pulled back slightly to look at him, surprise and something that might have been admiration flickering across her face. “You did?”
“I am not completely reckless,” Richard said with a small smirk. “Now, are you going to keep finding reasons to object, or are you going to kiss me again?”
A slow smile spread across Isobel's face – that genuine, sunlight smile that made his heart stutter dangerously. “That depends.”
“On what?”
“On whether you are going to teach me something new again.”
Desire shot through Richard like lightning. This woman would be the death of him. “So eager to learn, hmm?” he murmured, pulling her closer. “Very well, Miss Wightman. Let us see how well you remember your previous lessons.”
He kissed her again, slower this time, savoring the taste of her. Isobel responded beautifully, her lips parting for him, her tongue tangling with his. But when his hands began to wander, sliding up her sides, thumbing the undersides of her breasts through her dress, she made a small, impatient sound and tried to press closer.
Richard pulled back immediately, and Isobel whined at the loss.
“What did I teach you about patience?” he asked, his voice taking on that commanding edge that he knew affected her.
Isobel's eyes darkened. “To wait for your instruction.”
“And?”
“And… to trust that you will give me what I need, when you decide I am ready for it.”
“Good girl,” Richard praised, and watched with satisfaction as she shivered. “Now, I want you to stay very still while I touch you. Can you do that for me?”
“Yes, Your Grace,” Isobel breathed.
But this time was different from before. This time, when his hands found the fastenings of her dress, when he gradually exposed more of her skin to his gaze and touch, Isobel did not fidget or protest. She remained still, pliant, trusting, and waiting.
He was thoroughly impressed, rewarding her with kisses as he continued to undress her, groping at the supple flesh of her breasts and hips and buttocks.
And when he finally slipped his hand beneath her skirts, when his fingers found the heat of her, she gasped but did not move. She simply looked at him with those green eyes full of desire, silently permitting him to do as he wished.
“So wet already,” Richard murmured, circling her entrance with one finger. “Such an eager little thing. Did you think about what we did yesterday?”
“Yes,” Isobel admitted, her voice breathy. “I could not stop thinking about it.”
“What did you think about?” Richard pressed a finger inside her, watching her face intently. “Tell me.”
“Your hands,” Isobel gasped, her hands gripping his left shoulder for support. “Your mouth. The way you touched me. The way you made me feel.”
“And did you touch yourself?” Richard asked, adding a second finger and beginning a slow, steady rhythm. “Did you try to re what I did to you?”
Isobel's cheeks flamed, but she held his gaze. “No… but I wanted to.”
The admission sent a bolt of pure lust through Richard. The image of Isobel in her bed, her hands clenched at her side as she fights the urge to relieve herself of her desire, thinking of him while she resists pleasure – it was almost more than he could bear.
“Do not worry, pet. I will take care of you. I always take care of what is mine,” Richard growled, his thumb finding her pearl and circling it in time with the thrust of his fingers. “And your pleasure belongs to me. Do you understand?”
“Yes,” Isobel moaned, her head falling back, her composure finally dwindling. “Yes, I understand.”
Richard hummed in approval, one of his arms wrapping around her waist tightly before he rose to his feet. Isobel squealed, surprised at how she was effortlessly lifted, breathless when he turned around and lowered her onto the spot he had been sitting in.
“Allow me to reward you, then, for being an excellent student,” Richard said gruffly, sinking to his knees and pushing her skirt up her legs in a fluid movement.
Isobel shivered under his stare, her cheeks red as he pushed her legs apart.
“W-Wait – what are you –”
