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In silence, she did as bid, feeling the material sag from her waist to her knees, cool ocean air kissing her heated skin beneath her thin chemise. He knelt and dragged her drawers down further, lifting each leg out of them. Watching her, he held the fine-spun silk undergarments up, fingers easing over the slit in the middle. Bronwyn shuddered in mortification when his eyes dilated. “So damp already.”
It was a fact—she could feel the slickness between her thighs.
Her mortification grew when he lifted them to his nose and inhaled deeply before folding the voluminous silk and tucking it into his coat pocket. Hissing a raw sound of arousal, the duke placed his hands at her waist and lifted her to the low metal ledge that snaked the circumference of the space, before dropping to his knees.
“Iamgoing to kiss you.” Warm bare palms skated up her thighs just as she’d hoped. She trembled when he widened her knees and caressed her dewy skin with the backs of his knuckles. “Here.”
Oh God.
She rolled her bottom lip between her teeth and bit down hard when he settled those broad shoulders between her splayed legs, baring her to him. Bronwyn wasn’t a prude, but she didn’t dare watch, the feeling of him staring at her too much to handle. Her eyes fluttered shut when she felt his breath on her. He was having none of it though. “Look at me.”
The sight of him perched in front of her was decadent, but the hungry expression on his face even more so. Fabric pooled over her hips, her thighs spread indecently wide, his face so close to her most intimate parts that she quivered.
“You’re so pretty and glistening,” he whispered, and she didn’t even have the wherewithal to be embarrassed at that. Golden eyes burned into hers, his nostrils flaring with lust as he breathed her in and licked his lips in anticipation. She’d never seen a man look so…ravenous. So full of desire and wicked intent.
Keeping his eyes locked on hers, he leaned in for a long, slow lick with the flat of his tongue. Bronwyn couldn’t help it; her eyes rolled back in her head, her hips nearly coming off the ledge at that first scintillating touch. Gracious, it was filthy and incredible what he was doing to her. He licked her again, swirling at the top of her sex in a move that had her whimpering.
“Perfection,” he pronounced. The growl of approval that burst from his chest was primal when he set himself to her, as if that first taste had been his utter ruin. His tongue licked and laved, swirled and sucked while pleasure built along her nerve endings. It was near intolerable, the feelings surging inside of her, her veins going molten as he stoked the fires of her arousal with every flick of his tongue and scrape of his teeth on her wet, throbbing flesh.
“Valentine,” she begged.
“Yes?” he said, a deeply feral gaze catching hers, though he did not stop in his ministrations.
“I need…” Her voice trailed off when his lips closed around the peak of her sex, the soft suction making her writhe. She couldn’t form a single articulate thought.
“I know what you need,” he promised.
She almost toppled off the ledge when his finger probed her entrance while his tongue continued its sensual assault on her body. He slid inside, thrusting once and then twice, and suddenly, the combined sensations were too much. With a gasping moan, Bronwyn felt her entire body seize, her core clenching around him as pleasure crested in waves upon crashing waves. Her head slumped back onto the porthole, stars in the sky merging with the stars going white in her vision as she rode out the storm he’d ruthlessly wrought upon her.
***
Damnation, the taste of her was to die for—all silken, tart sweetness, much like the apples she smelled like. Their coupling in the woods had been fierce and frantic, and there’d barely been any time to appreciate her form. But now, he reveled in the beauty of her feminine shape, the fragrant scent that lit his body on fire, and the sublime banquet that would send him quite happily to his maker with that as his last meal on his tongue. He’d seen her beneath the water in her bath, but those glimpses had only hinted at the perfection of her.
Valentine’s cock was so distended, it hurt to move, but he stood anyway, wincing as his sensitive shaft grazed against the constraining fabric. He was certain he’d soiled the crotch of his trousers with the amount of fluid he’d leaked while gorging himself on her.
Languid, passion-drenched dark-blue eyes met his, even as reality intruded between them, the haze of lust clearing somewhat. It didn’t diminish his arousal, but his ardor retreated. Valentine had no reasoning or excuses for what he’d just done—the untenable position he’d placed them both in, and this time, with no acceptable justification. They had both known exactly what they were doing.
He exhaled. He’d come out here to clear the air, to remove her from her vexing sycophants, and instead he’d made yet another unspeakable mistake. Ever his fate, it seemed, whenever he was around her. He opened his mouth at the same time she spoke, probably to make the same apologies he was about to.
“I need you inside me.”
Valentine blinked. Had he heard that right? “I beg your pardon?”
“You gave the orders before,” she said huskily. She lifted one heel and swung it around his legs. The other wrapped around the back of his thigh, propelling him forward so that his swollen groin pressed right up against her center. When she hooked her calves over his hips, they both groaned. “And I obeyed you without question. Now it’s your turn. Unfasten your trousers and fill me.”
Heaven help him, herwords.
“Bronwyn, we—”
“Damn it, Thornbury, if you’re about to tell me that we can’t do this, so help me, I will pitch you over the side of this ship and let the sharks have their way with you.” She tightened her muscles, dragging her core over him again. “And I guarantee you that it won’t be as pleasurable as if you let me have my way.”
Nimble fingers reached for the fastenings, and with a few quick snaps, he sprang free. Blue eyes widened at the sight of him, lips parting on a gasp of air. It would be her first look at him as well. Glancing down, he winced at the sight of his engorged cock, fluid glistening over the crown, veins lining a shaft that was angry and pulsing and excruciatingly hard.
He let out a grunt when her palm slid over him, thumb spreading the moisture over his skin. “Sorry, I’ve changed my mind. The sharks can’t have this. It’s mine.”
“Is that so?”
“It is.”
