Page 57 of Duke the Halls

“He didn’t like it,” she had said. Kit knewhewas the former Sir Michael Sempleton. “You might not like it, either.”

“Let me find out.”

And he had found out helovedit. To be right at the beating heart of Franny’s excitement, to worship her, to taste her essence.

He hadn’t made her spend the first time he tried using his tongue. But he had aroused her and she had trembled and gone red and begged him to fuck her and then she had climaxed very quickly with him inside her. The next night he had made her spend, gloriously, his tongue in her cunt, her thighs clenching around him, her hands in his hair.

But this was a new position.

He settled both his hands on her beautiful, plump, round bottom, holding her in place.

“I don’t know if I can—”

“Please,” he said and kissed what she called her button very lightly.

“Whatever His Grace—” he kissed her with a little more pressure, “—waa-ah-ants. Ahhhh, yes.”

She was even more beautiful this way. Her sex above his face, her soft legs surrounding him, the undersides of her breasts visible and framing her face from his vantage.

He made his tongue into a point and holding her gaze, he stroked from her opening up to the top of her cleft.

She wobbled a bit. “Oh, my God.”

“I’ve got you, Franny.” And then he devoted himself to feasting on her wetness, her tender flesh. She moaned quietly and writhed above him but kept her hold on the headboard, and he kept his hold on her bottom and his mouth on her sex.

“Kit, please, please, please.”

He released one cheek of her bottom and reached up and pinched a nipple and made his tongue into a point again and licked and lashed at her little bit of hardness over and over again, faster and faster, harder and harder.

“Oh, oh, oh, oh.” She shook and Kittredge could hear the creak of the headboard as she pulled on it and she was very wet and swollen on his mouth and then she was crumpling and he was moving and sitting up as she slid down and he was holding her.

Her whole body was soft in his arms. No tension remained. She had completely surrendered to him. His luminous Franny.

His hard member was between them as he held her on his lap, her legs now around his waist. But his cock could wait. Franny would demand it soon enough with him either beneath her or on top of her or behind her where he could see and touch her arse while being inside her.

“You came,” he said.

She pulled her head from his shoulder and looked at him. “Me and the Magi.”

“You and the—? Oh, Twelfth Night. The last night of Christmas.”

She kissed him. “Happy Christmas, Kit.”

“No. Happiest Christmas ever. How shall we celebrate Epiphany tomorrow?” He dotted her face with kisses. “Games? An icy picnic on Hampstead Heath? Skating on the Serpentine? What does my duchess want?”

She closed her eyes and for the first time, she spoke her mother’s tongue to him. “Un caminetto acceso, un libro, un cane . . . e tu.”

He held still. This was another layer of his beautiful Franny.His wife.

She opened her eyes. “It translates to a fire, a book, a dog . . . andyou.”

“Yes,” he breathed.

After a long, soft kiss, he toyed with her hair. “You must continue to be my teacher and teach me Italian before our trip.”

“You need only one phrase, Kit. One. And it will make your life so wonderful and easy.Mia moglie ha sempre ragione.”

He repeated it back to her. “But what does it mean?”

Her serious face was starting to dissolve into a grin. “It means . . .” A giggle escaped. “It meansmy wife is always right!”

Kittredge didn’t tickle Franny for too long. After all, there were so many other things to do when you had a woman in your bed who inspired love, lust, and laughter.

All year round.

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