Page 19 of The Devilish Pleasures of a Duke

“Very nice,” he murmured. “And what about down here? All delicious and tender, too?”

She swallowed thickly as his hand wandered down into the warm hollow between her thighs. “Oh, Emma,” he said, briefly closing his eyes, “you’re so wet, darling. Let me bring you off.”

“Bring me—” A blush of shame rose to her skin. Her woman’s place softened, opened moistly at his invitation. She made no move to stop him.

“You need it.” His scarred knuckles drifted over her mons to the engorged folds beneath. Her inner muscles melted, awaiting his touch. “Don’t you?” he murmured.

She closed her eyes against the temptation burning deep in her belly.

He bent his head and licked tenderly across the tops of her breasts. Her face heated, and the heat spread, meeting the fire in her belly.

“I can’t—” Her voice broke.

“Hush. I’ll take care of everything.” His thumb glided across her tender nipples, back and forth, until the pleasure-pain made her tremble. He shifted closer. His erection throbbed through his long cambric drawers and dressing robe against her bare thick belly.

“Why am I allowing this?” she asked with a helpless groan.

One long calloused finger pressed into her pulsing cleft. “Because your body is asking for it. Dear Emma, am I welcome here?”

He kissed her as she struggled to answer. He tangled his thumb in the soft tuft of hair that crowned her cleft. Slowly he inserted two more fingers into her crevice, flexing and unflexing them inside her. She gasped. Sighing in pleasure, he removed his hand and lifted it above her shoulder. Her pearly essence glistened enticingly on his knuckles. She heard him growl his approval deep in his throat.

He kissed her forehead. “Tell me,” he said huskily. “How long has it been since a man has entered your body? Since you touched yourself?”

Her eyes flew open. “You impertinent man.”

He grinned, the cleft in his chin deepening. “We’ll deal with my impertinence later, shall we? For now we have to take care of you.”

She squirmed. He laid his other hand flat on her belly, imprisoning her. His eyes fastened to her face, he gently pinched her hidden bud between his fingers until it tautened and her hips bucked. His gaze darkening, he forced his three fingers back inside her tight, aching passage. She felt exposed, vulnerable, ripe.

She shook her head. In denial? Delight? Perhaps both. He kissed her again, his tongue ravishing her mouth, absorbing her soft moans. His hard thigh pressed against her flank. She put her hand on his powerful forearm. He raised up slightly, his shoulder muscles corded with strength. He was as sexual and beautiful, and as unprincipled, as an ancient god.

In a moment she would put him in his place.

But now, ah, now. She stared up at his gorgeous face. The heat in his eyes sent a current of sexual awareness down her spine. So uninhibited. So male.

Somewhere outside she heard the clatter of carriage wheels and hooves upon the cobbles. She lifted her hand to the back of his sun-burnished neck. She felt his muscles tighten at her hesitant touch. His breathing deepened. His shaft thickened against her thigh as he drew his body against hers.

He rotated her hooded bud again. The pleasure in her body intensified. Hot. Tight. Forbidden. All the while he watched her, understanding her every weakness.

Her brother’s home.

Her school.

A practical stranger.

Viscountess Lyons being ravished by a man she’d only known for hours. His large, warm hand wandered in a caress over her breasts. His agile fingers worked her, thrust between her plump wet lips. In and out. Warm blood swirled in a pool to the aching hollow of her sex.

“Too long,” he whispered. “And now I’m here. When I met you today, when we talked at the wedding, I felt as if we had known each other before.”

“Less than a day,” she whispered.

“No. It did not seem so, at least not to me.”

She bit the inside of her cheek. He was leaning on one elbow now, intensifying the wicked pleasure he gave her. His gaze was riveted to the shadowed juncture of her thighs. Her excitement grew.

Her hips lifted into his hand. She couldn’t control her movements, her need. He exhaled, closed his eyes. “It must have been a long time,” he murmured. “You’re trembling and so very snug inside.”

She could not speak. The warm droplets of moisture that gathered between her thighs betrayed whatever protest she might attempt. How long had it been? Her belly quivered, and a deep pressure built at the base of her spine.