Page 34 of The Devilish Pleasures of a Duke

His cock rose hard and throbbing. He pushed off the bedcovers and drew her down onto his lap.

“I don’t want you to overexert yourself,” she whispered, sitting delicately between his heavy thighs. “You’re not well.”

“Are you going to make me well?” he asked, not feeling weak but powerful, so desperate to house his aching prick in her pouting little cleft that he couldn’t seem to focus. He thrust upward.

She smiled and cupped her firm breasts in her hands. The taut pink tips protruded between her fingers. “You have to stay in bed while I take care of you. I know what you need.”

“What I need,” he whispered.

He groaned and locked his hands around her hips. She slid forward with a gasp of pleasure until his penis probed between her damp gold curls. Penetration eluded him. He writhed in frustration. “I think this would help,” he whispered, raising himself into her.

She lifted herself daintly from his lap to accommodate his turgid organ. “Like so?”

He groaned in agonized delight. “Yes. Sit on me, Emma. My shaft is about to burst.”

She slid her hands down to the base of his enormous erection. He was going to explode soon, in or outside her tempting body, between her fingers or against her belly. “Will it fit?” she asked in a taunting whisper.

He flexed his back, the tip of his cock stabbing the drenched lips of her womanhood. “We’ll make it fit, sweetheart,” he said. “We’ll stretch you slowly until you take it all the way. I can’t quite…I can’t…”

In a faraway voice she whispered, “Adrian…are you all right?”

Was he all right? He would be as soon as he found relief.

He surged upward, impaling her in answer. It felt so good. She gave a soft cry of surrender. He felt her hands on his face, his neck. His body moved spasmodically.

She eluded him. His stones ached. His body drew taut, every muscle aching for the release that evaded him. Suddenly he felt her slipping away. He groaned in despair.

“Please,” he whispered.

Her soft voice filtered through a fog. “You mustn’t thrash so.”

“I’ll be good.” His body trembled. He could smell the sweetness of her hair, her skin. Her breasts brushed his face. “Please, Emma,” he whispered. “Don’t leave me. I need you.”

He opened his eyes and knew it had been a dream. In the back of his mind he heard his father’s damning prediction. “You’ll ruin lives, Adrian. You’ve already ruined mine.”

“Liar,” he said. “You’re a liar.”

“Are you awake, my lord?” Emma whispered, her voice worried. “How unsettled you are. I do admit I was afraid for you.”

“Someone drugged me.” He was suddenly lucid. Emma was sitting at his bedside, her eyes heavy with fatigue. For a hopeful moment he thought they were alone until he noticed Julia dozing a few feet away on the chaise. He sank back down onto the bed in disappointment. He’d been dreaming, half-delirious. Why did he have to awaken?

“The doctor thought you needed sedation,” Emma told him gently. “You were so restless that we didn’t want to leave you.”

“Did I say anything in my sleep?”

She stared down at him. “Yes, but I couldn’t understand you. How do you feel?”

“Thirsty as hell.” Aroused. His body ached unbearably, hot and heavy with unfulfilled passion. And if she hadn’t noticed, he wasn’t about to draw his discomfiture to her notice.

“Is he awake?” Julia asked groggily from the chaise. She rose, hugging a cashmere shawl around her shoulders. “I didn’t mean to doze off. How is he, Emma?”

“He’s thirsty,” Adrian replied. Among other things, and now there were two of them to deceive.

“I’ll fetch some fresh water,” Julia said.

Emma glanced up. “No. I’ll call a footman—”

“I need to move about,” Julia said, already at the door. “I’ve a horrible pain in my neck.”