Page 93 of Unbound Duchess

“I want to see my husband,” she obediently repeated, raking her gaze down his still-clothed body.

Laurence raised their joined hands to his lips to deliver a soft kiss to her knuckles, then he laid her hand on the bed and took a step back. He undressed slowly, his gaze not leaving hers even once. This was no hurried frenzy as it had been before, but a deliberate show of dedication, and it pleased her greatly.

Ellen inhaled sharply as Laurence finally pulled the last shred of clothing away—his trousers—from himself, and stood before her in all of his muscular glory. She could not help but drop her gaze to the rigid lines of his pectorals, down to his chiseled abdomen and thighs, and the sight of his impressive cock—already standing at hardened readiness and flushed red with anticipation. Her mouth began to water as she took in the sight of him, still unable to comprehend how a man so beautiful would want someone soft like her.

She held no ridges as he did. Just soft curves and swells that Laurence could not seem to stop admiring.

When their eyes finally met again, the hunger they shared palpated throughout the room, and within an instant, Laurence was sliding into bed with her, gathering her into his arms so he could feel her curves against his muscles as he gave her another deep kiss.

She clung to him tightly, relishing the sensation of his cut muscles flush against softness, but did not protest when he rolled her onto her back, and his kisses began making a hot trail from her lips down to her throat.

Ellen whimpered, then gasped as Laurence first kissed, then swiped his tongue across first one taut nipple, then another.

“I do not know if I will ever grow accustomed to how good that feels,” she breathed as his mouth moved lower.

A thick chuckle rumbled from Laurence’s throat as his sensual kisses moved lower.

“We shall put it to the test,” he murmured, sliding his arms under her thighs and splaying them wide.

Ellen blushed and felt another tremor of insecurity passing through her as Laurence settled between her splayed legs, but as she lifted her head to tell him not to look, the words froze on her tongue at what she saw. Laurence’s gaze was riveted on her sex as if spellbound. His chiseled lips were parted slightly as he expelled ragged breaths; his pupils were blown so wide that hardly any of that vivid green was left.

“I have craved so badly to taste you again,” he rasped, his thumb sliding over her pulsing core. She gasped, bit her lip, and threw her head back at the small touch.

“I have not slept,” he went on, his voice full of wonder. He then leaned closer, so close that she was sure he was about to taste her, but instead, he only inhaled deeply, then released a deep groan.

“God, I have missed your scent,” he moaned, sounding positively tortured as he continued to slowly swirl his thumb in lazy circles around her folds.

“Look at you,” he praised, his head tilting slightly, responding to my touch. Your petals are already dew-drenched and opening for me.”

“Because I need you, Laurence,” she panted, feeling the heat inside of her growing to a temperature of discomfort.

“Certainly not as badly as I need you, my angel,” his husky voice promised, and before she could respond, he blessedly drew his lips to her mons.

Ellen moaned as his pleasure surged through her, so intense that she arched her back and splayed her thighs wider. Laurence’s answering groan was one of pure ecstasy as his free hand tightened on her thigh, and his skilled tongue began to lavish attention on her.

Her orgasm came quickly. So fast that she’d barely been able to slow down the build to enjoy it before her entire body trembled and she bowed her back off of the bed, panting hard when she finally collapsed back down into it.

“Another,” he commanded, not even bothering to pull back to say the words, instead opting to whisper them directly into her sex as if it alone could obey his command.

It did. Her body responded before her mind even had time to process, and as he slid two thick fingers slowly into her slick entrance, she felt that wonderful pressure beginning to build all over again.

Laurence’s words of praise were husky and muffled as he stroked her and tasted her at the same time. He coaxed every moan from her body by whispering those praises after every shudder and every gasp, until her nerves were trembling and her back was arching in ecstasy yet again.

When her third orgasm crashed through her, she let out a sob. Not one of pain or heartache, but one of a pleasure so overwhelming she could not comprehend what was happening to her body.

“Did I hurt you, angel?” he asked, smoothing the tear on her cheek as he rose and slid his body over hers.

Lost for words, Ellen only shook her head. His haze-filled eyes searched hers for an answer as his manhood pulsed at the entrance of her slick sheath, taunting her.

“Then why do you cry out?” he asked, kissing away another escaped tear.

Ellen drew in a shaky breath.

“I do not know,” she confessed, sliding her leg up to his hip. “I only know that you feel so wonderful that I never want you to stop.”

She blushed at her wanton words, remembering some long-ago lesson that women were not supposed to act so willfully.

“If you do not wish me to stop,” he said, pressing soft kisses over her cheeks and her lips, “then I will not stop. I will do whatever you wish. I am your servant to command.”