Page 49 of Unbound Duchess

“Perfect,” he said for her, and then thrust his hips up, causing the length of his manhood to glide over her wet mons.

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

“Please,” Ellen panted.

The slow, rhythmic thrust of Laurence’s hips was a particularly sweet and cruel form of torture. One that, up until that moment, she had never known existed. The pleasure that radiated from his slow, steady movements had every cell in her body trembling. Every nerve and tendon growing more stiff one inch at a time. A tight, coiling sensation began to grow stronger in her lower belly.

“Please, what?” Laurence asked. His deep voice was raw with need as the hand he’d wrapped around her throat moved up just enough so that he could caress his thumb against her lip. “Use your words. Tell me what you want.”

Ellen whimpered at the command. She’d never had trouble telling her father what she wanted. Even with Benedict’s harsh punishments, she had not balked away from speaking her wants. Yet with Laurence, she felt lost. She had no name for what she wanted. Could not even fathom what to call it. All she knew was that she needed it, or else something horrible was going to happen to her body.

“More,” she pleaded. She boldly swept her tongue over the pad of Laurence’s thumb, then tilted her chin just enough so that she could take the tip of it into her mouth and suckle.

Laurence’s low, answering groan quickly became her favorite sound, and she felt a surge of power move through her as she felt him quake beneath her. It was as if she was driving him as insane as he was driving her. His thumb moved, applying just enough pressure to her mouth, making her lips part wider..

He dipped his thumb deeper into her mouth, sliding over her tongue in a way that made her gasp and part her lips a little more. Saliva pooled in her mouth at his furtive touch, and he swiped his thumb through it before dragging it out to her lips. He ran that thumb over her lips, coating them.

Heat and shame washed through her as he did so. Yet as he finished and dragged his thumb down her chin, his pupils blew wide, and a strangled breath burst from his lungs.

“Kiss me,” he growled, his hand snaking around the nape of her neck.

Ellen moved to wipe her lips, but before she could even raise her hand above her breasts, Laurence was pulling her down to his mouth.

“Don’t,” was all he growled before he ravished her wet lips, suckling and nipping at them as if he needed to taste the saliva he’d put there.

Ellen whimpered as that coil in her lower belly grew tighter, and this time, it was she who flicked her hips to chase that pleasure their rubbing had created. Laurence groaned into her mouth, the sound echoing down into the core of her body where it began to spread into pleasure.

More. She wanted more.

As if he heard her, Laurence wrenched away from their kiss, pulling away with a harsh hiss of breath as his mouth found her throat. Ellen’s eyes rolled as his teeth nipped at the sensitive flesh of her throat, starting from just below her ear and then down to the hem of her bodice. She moaned and thrust her fingers into his hair as his teeth grazed against the top of her cleavage, her body shivering with growing need.

Laurence’s fingertips skimmed the edges of the fabric of her sleeves as he drew them up to her shoulders, then with a sudden yank and the sound of tearing fibers, her bodice gave way, and her breasts spilled free.

“Christ,” Laurence swore, then wrapped his arms around her back and pressed her breasts into his face.

His mouth performed the most delicious attack on her breasts. Nipping and teasing to the point of making her hiss in pain, then lavishing and suckling with such tenderness that she felt a pool of wet heat form over his restrained manhood as her body melted into him.

She began to buck her hips again, needing that friction between her thighs to survive the brutal need rising inside of her. She whimpered as she found the strength to move faster, more in time with Laurence’s mouth until she felt as if that coil in her belly was going to snap and her entire being was going to come apart.

“Give it to me,” Laurence growled, one arm falling down to her lower back, the other cupped at her breast. “Let me feel you come apart.”

Ellen wasn’t sure what he meant, and she was given no time to try to figure it out before the arm he had wrapped around her lower back was surging her into him, her soaked mons gliding over the ridge of his turgid sword quicker and harder until the throbbing there shattered into ecstasy.

Ellen’s head fell back, her body taut and trembling, as wave after wave of pleasure washed over her. She cried out his name. Bit her fingernails into his shoulders, and with a final, surging thrust, Laurence’s own roar of ecstasy came bursting from his chest as his arms pinned her down.

For a moment, the only sound in the room was their heavy, panting breaths and the pounding of their hearts. Then Laurence brushed a kiss, so very tender and almost loving, against her breast. With small, tender kisses, the ecstasy-laced tension in Ellen’s limbs dissolved, and she melted, feeling suddenly heavy and weak, into Laurence’s lap.

“Darling, what can we do to help you relax?” Madalene asked, glancing worriedly at Ellen. “You look so, so beautiful. You truly have nothing to worry about.”

Ellen attempted a tentative smile as she turned from the mirror to her new sister-in-law. The night had arrived when they were to attend the ball, and the new dress Madalene had helped her pick was stunning. It was a fine silk of dazzling emerald green that held hints of shimmering gold within the finely woven threads. It hugged her curves perfectly without making her feel suffocated, and the new, matching corset had her cleavage sitting properly just above the bodice’s hem. Not enough to make her breasts spill over, as Judith’s ridiculous costume had done, but just enough to show off the natural beauty of her curvier shape.

A single emerald pendant choker had been chosen from Madalene’s jewelry collection to be worn around her neck, and an emerald stud graced the lobes of her ears. To show off the subtle touches of glittering gems, Sarah had braided Ellen’s dark, long hair and wrapped it into a crown that she’d pinned just above the tips of her ears. A few stray wisps were let loose around her temples, just enough to lay over her cheeks—particularly her left, where her mole was.

She felt beautiful, strong and capable—yet even so, her heart was racing, and her white-satin-glove-clad hands shook as she clasped them tightly together. Benedict was going to be there. She was going to see him, maybe even speak to him, and even though she wanted to believe in Laurence’s promises of protection, she still feared that something would go awry.

“I will be fine,” she insisted, doing her best to will her hands to stop shaking.

Madalene looked worried for another moment, but then something sparked in her eyes, and she grinned.