Page 44 of The Duke's Lesson in Love

“Now ride me,” he instructed, using his hands to guide her.

He allowed her a slow unhurried pace. Every rise and drop of her hips was a tantalizing tease. She boldly gyrated, moaning as her buttocks ground against his thighs.

His nostrils flared, eyes clouding as new moisture slickened their path to bliss. Gill couldn’t take more of her sensual teasing. Each time she settled on his lap only to rotate her waist instead of dragging herself up to his tip, he thought he would go mad from need. The need for powerful strokes. The need to flip her onto her back, thrusting deep and hard, over and over until they were spent.

Her mewing was his undoing. Circling his hands under her arms, he gripped her shoulders, slamming her down as she rose to the tip of his swollen crown. Her breasts pressed against his chest, hard against soft, her nipples adding their own torment.

He held her close as his toes curled, and her whimpers filled his ear.

He wanted it all.

Her cries.

Her orgasm.

Her surrender.

Their kiss was desperate, her mouth slack against his, and he knew she was close. He held on as her slit fluttered, spasming violently, drawing the essence from his soul.

He followed. Gill would always follow Sadie to that magical place each time they forged to a new peak. Crested. Plummeted.

“Gill!”

The sound of his name beckoned him onward. He surged upwards, planting himself deep, then exploded with a desperate need that matched her cry of release.

* * *

Gill layon his side with a naked Sadie in his arms, her fingers running the length of the scars on his back. Other than his valet and Mary, he allowed no one to touch his back.

Her touch did not plunge him into the discomfort he expected, that always came when his servants applied salve to his scars. Instead, her caress soothed…healed. She tucked her head under his chin. He let the dark strands of her hair, and the loose braids rub against his rough day-old stubble.

“How does the son of a Duke bare marks slaves carry on their backs?”

“It is not a flowery tale, Sadie.”

Her palm flattened against his spine, holding him close. She did not press or insist, and he exhaled, knowing he wanted her to know about the surname she now carried.

“It was the summer before I was to graduate from boarding school. I usually stayed away as often as I could, but my mother had invited visitors. Among the expected guests were the daughter of my father's closest parliamentary allies and my cousin and aunt, Caleb and Lady Beatrice.”

“Your parents were hoping for a match.”

Gill snorted. “They had all but announced the banners.”

“Oh!”

“By the time my father’s friends and the families arrived, half the summer had passed, and I fancied myself in love with Layra, a pretty maid. I had followed her around the house like a lost puppy for weeks. It was a wonder my parents did not take the hide off my rear then.”

“You were young, I am sure they never envisioned your feelings had matured to love.”

“With the house packed with guests, Caleb had arranged for Layra and me to be alone.”

“Caleb wanted to help you?”

“I thought he did. I thought the entire plan was brilliant. With my parents entertaining and the staff busy, I could be alone with my love.”

“But you were caught,” Sadie whispered, her hold tightening.

Gill nodded. “The young lady complained to my parents about my absence and when they found me…us, it was too late to hide our disheveled state. They were furious and it was made worse when their friends followed them to the barn.”

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