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Tangling my fingers into his dark hair, I grind my center into his face. The Duke hooks his arms around my legs, throwing them over his shoulders. I moan, clawing at the soft leather sofa to get some sort of leverage. To support my body as it’s teased and torn apart.
With my legs over his shoulders, Heath runs his hands up to my waist, holding me down. His tongue slips down to my opening, and he drives it inside me.
I gasp. I fist my hand into his hair and pull as heat erupts in my core.
I’ve never had this before. Not like this. Not where I know—I just know—that Heath is enjoying it almost as much as I am. I can tell by the groans. The fingertips sinking into my flesh. The way his mouth eats me like I was made just for him.
And I come.
My orgasm erupts, sending daggers of heat down my thighs and out to every extremity. My back arches, and I clench. I’m so empty. So, so lacking. Even as my breath staggers and my orgasm crashes into me, making my cheeks pink and stealing my voice away, I know it’s not enough.
The muscles in my core tighten and release, aching for something long and hard and male.
When I can breathe again, I lift my head and look at the Duke. That wolfish grin is on his lips again, glistening with my arousal.
“Did you enjoy that?” His voice is a low rumble, sending another thrill tickling down my spine. He runs his hands up my sides to tease the underside of my breast, his eyes sweeping down my body and back up again.
“Not bad,” I answer, sucking my bottom lip between my teeth.
Heath grins, hooking his fingers in my ruined panties and tugging them down my legs. I help him by kicking them off, not caring where they land.
And when he stands, I grip the edge of the sofa. I watch those broad, strong hands work the button of his pants open. Then the zipper. Finally, he pushes the pants, underwear, and all down to his ankles.
He stands in front of me, hands hanging by his sides, watching me. Watching my reaction. My face. My lips as they drop open. My eyes, as they follow the movement of his long, hard cock as it bobs as if to say hello. My breath catches, but I can’t look away.
It’s big. Massive, even.
And I ache. I’m so fucking empty, and I need it. Now. Right this second. It needs to be inside me, so I can feel the length and thickness of it buried between my legs.
Dragging my eyes up to his, I reach up to wrap my fingers around his cock. Warm, silken skin throbs beneath my touch, and before I know what I’m doing I find myself bringing my lips to it.
There’s moisture beading at the tip, and I suddenly need to know what it tastes like. I need to have him on my tongue, just as he has me. I need to share everything with him.
I don’t even know him, but does it matter? There’s something happening between us. A union. Something real. It’s not about titles or nobility. There’s a connection between us that started the moment our eyes met across the ballroom.
He understands me, down to my core. He knew how I felt about the Count. He made me feel safe and comfortable when I needed it most. He brought me to this place, to play an instrument I’ve only dreamed of.
Why resist now? Why deny myself the pleasure I know he wants to give? It might be my only chance. After Maggie’s married, I’m next.
When I lick the tip of his cock, feeling the tautness of his crown, we both let out a groan. I drop my lips open and take him in my mouth, finally tasting that salty, needy arousal.
The Duke sighs, cupping my cheek with his hand. He pushes himself deeper in my mouth, letting out a low sigh. “This isn’t how I expected tonight to go,” he says softly.
I moan in response, because it’s the only thing I can do. The hum of my voice against his shaft makes him groan again, his hold on my head tightening ever so slightly. I let my fingers run up his strong thighs, feeling the sparse, dark hair beneath my palms. I grip his hips, bringing one hand around his shaft and the other crawling up his stomach.
Before I can stop him, the Duke wraps his fingers in my hair and pulls my head back. His length falls from my mouth with a soft pop.
I lift my eyes to meet his. “What’s wrong?” It’s almost a whine. I want more. I want to give him what he gave me. I want to taste his orgasm on my tongue and know that I made him do it.
I’m not usually like this. I’ve never gotten naked with someone I just met. I’ve never sucked a man’s cock at a royal event or let him spread me wide and devour me.
But I’m not going to stop now—and neither is he.
Hooking his arms around my legs, the Duke yanks me forward on the sofa. I fall back, catching myself against the cushions as he kneels, letting his hands sweep up my thighs and over my stomach.
“What’s wrong is that if you had your lips around my cock for another second, I was going to come all over that pretty tongue of yours.”
The Duke’s eyes are dark. I can’t even see the green in them right now. All I see is desire. His tip teases my opening as his eyelids flutter, a sigh slipping through his lips.
