Page 153 of The Dueling Duchess

“Did everything go as planned?”

“Mmm-hmm,” he murmured, shrugging out of his coat and tossing it onto a nearby chair and then rolling up his sleeves.

“What do you think you are doing?” she asked, lifting a foot out of the water to wash it.

“I thought you might need some help.”

“I’ve been bathing myself for a very long time.”

“Well, yes, so that’s why you should allow me to take over. You find it a chore and I will get a great deal of pleasure out of it.”

Cecile chuckled.

“Besides, I earned a reward tonight.”

“Oh, how so?”

“Because I didn’t knock Blanchard’s head right off his body.” He knelt down beside the tub and leaned against the edge.

“You were very well-behaved.”

Cecile hissed in a breath as he slid a large hand over one of her breasts, teasing the already tightened nipple to a peak.

“God, you’re lovely, Cecile,” he murmured, and then lowered his mouth to her sudsy breast.

“There’s soap all over—ah,” she groaned when his lips latched on to her.

“Harder,” she ordered, gasping when he complied.

Cecile slid a hand between her thighs only to have it shoved out of the way.

“Mine,” he mumbled, switching his mouth to her other breast while his sinfully skilled fingers parted her lower lips and caressed the sensitive nub of flesh.

Cecile laid her head back and let her knees fall open.

He chuckled, his lips curving against the slick skin of her breast. “Such a good girl,” he praised, soap bubbles clinging to his mouth and chin.

“Good girls deserve a reward,” she pointed out in a breathy voice.

“Yes, they do.” He penetrated her with two fingers and she shivered at the sudden stretch.

His eyes were hard and hungry as he pumped her. “Good?”

“Harder, more.”

He immediately obeyed, his thrusting just on the edge of pleasure and pain, water sloshing over the rim of the tub as she bucked up to meet him.

Cecile’s orgasm was sudden and shattering. She was vaguely aware that she’d shouted out his name, but not until she felt goose pimples forming on her skin did she realize he’d lifted her out of the tub.

“What?” she asked in a muzzy voice, the room moving around her as he strode across to her bed. She blinked blearily up at him as he tossed her down and then shoved her legs wide.

“But I didn’t rinse off the—”

“Hush,” he ordered, dropping to his haunches and claiming her with his mouth.

Cecile spread even wider for his lips and tongue, grinding against him like a shameless harlot.

She lost track of how many times he brought her to climax.