Page 73 of Dukes of Peril

Two spots of color rise on her cheeks, tongue licking out to wet her lips. “I can’t fuck you right now, because it’d probably take a lot of time and practice and patience.”

“I know,” I say, grimacing from the feel of her pressing down on my cock. “I’m not–you don’t have to–”

She plucks another long, wet kiss from my lips, whispering against them. “That doesn’t mean I don’t want you.” But she takes it further, grabbing my fingers and pushing them between her legs, beneath her skirt. I go where she leads, following far enough to reluctantly tuck my fingers beneath lacy elastic.

I bite out a low, “Fuck,” chasing her mouth when she leans back to give me more room. My girl is wet, slick under her cotton panties. Shuddering, I yank them aside and finger her folds, asking, “Like this?”

She lets out a hitched breath, nodding, and I surge forward, capturing her lips with mine. Our tongues slide together, and I feel it, burning beneath the surface like napalm.

God, I just want to let go.

I settle for pushing stiltedly at her sweater, asking in a gravelly voice, “What are the rules?” She helps me lift the sweater over her head, brows crushing inward when I begin palming hungrily at her tits, daring to hook my fingers in the top of her bra, fisting. My breath comes so quick and loud that I feel the tips of my ears burn in embarrassment. “You have to tell me. How far?”

She pauses for a second, staring at me with heavy, sex-fogged eyes, and it just makes it all so much worse.

But also so much better.

“I want to ride your cock,” she finally tells me, pushing higher on her knees. Her eyes are dark and full of want, and when she tugs at my shirt, I’m powerless to do anything but tear it over my head. “I want to feel you against me.”

I reply unthinkingly, breathlessly. “Yeah, baby, I want that, too.” It takes me a long moment to realize why she’s hovering there, and I jolt in surprise as I get with the program, reaching down to tear my belt open. I watch her carefully as I pop the button, shoving my jeans down my hips, but she doesn’t look afraid.

She glances down at it and licks her lips.

“Shit.” My cock jerks eagerly in my hand, and I grip the base, hissing as the tip grazes her inner thigh.

It isn’t until she contorts herself, working her panties down her legs, baring her pussy beneath her skirt, that I realize where this is going. It’s an agonizing tease. Even the radiating heat of her is enough to make my cock give a surge of precum.

Her lips fall to my shoulder, hot and unbearably sensual, but it’s the scrape of her teeth that sends a wave of blood to my cock.

I pull aside the cup of her bra and drop my mouth to her nipple, licking and sucking, tugging at it until her back arches, driving her pussy down. She saidagainst, notin, and despite the tease of it, I’m more than willing to make that happen. I guide my cock across her folds, spreading her wetness from front to back.

Her shoulders jerk with a shudder, voice low and strained. “Do that again,” she says, and I rut up against her, realizing my dick is long enough that it nudges at her backside. Shemewls. “Yes,that. God, Sy, your cock.” She gasps, looking overwhelmed and almost as tortured as I feel. “I can feel you everywhere.”

Her praise spurs me on, and I grab her ass, spreading her cheeks wide enough to bury the sensitive tip in her soft, sweet flesh, hitting her clit to tail.

Fuck.

Her cunt is like slick, liquid fire against my cock, and I grip her hips hard just to keep her still.

“Wait,” I urge, mouthing against her warm cheek. “Let me feel it…”

If I were a better man, I’d look back on that night at the party–my first time being inside a woman–and feel nothing but disgust because of the way I behaved. I’m not a better man, though. With my cock nestled in her folds, her hips making these little hitching rolls against it, all I feel is disappointed that it couldn’t be good. Our breaths have fogged the windows, her forehead tipping to rest against mine, and I can see how we’re supposed to be. Me and her, not her and Remy, or her and Nick.

Lavinia and I were made to be likethis. Tender and careful, her hips rolling against mine in a slow rhythm. Her tits rock with every thrust and her nails tug at the hair at the base of my neck. There’s a sense of inhibition, something that’s never transpired between us. Trust? Grief? Abject horniness? There’s no lesson here. No justification. I want her and she wants me. Whatever emotion she’s riding, I chase it, matching her pace, her movements, her desire.

Do I want to fuck her?

Hell yes.

So badly that my bones ache from holding back.

But more than that, I want this to last. I want her in my bed every night. I want her warm body pressed against mine. I know if I hurt her again, I’ll lose her forever, so everything I do is about making her feel good.

Making her mine.

“Jesus, I’m not gonna last,” I say, dropping my forehead to the crook of her neck. “You feel too fucking good.”

She tugs my hair, forcing my eyes back to hers. “Don’t hold back. Let go, Big Bear.”

---