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“Tell me you’re on the pill. Tell me you want this.”
“I’m on the pill,” I answer. I glance at him through my lashes. “I want this.”
Desperately.
His face grows serious, his hands running back and forth over my thighs as he holds them up, my calves resting on his shoulders.
“I’ve been hard since the moment I laid eyes on you,” he growls. “I thought I’d be fucking my fist to the memory of you for the rest of the year. I never thought I’d get the real thing.”
“Number one, I’m not a thing,” I say, wiggling my hips to try to feel more of him. “Number two, be quiet, Your Grace, and fuck me already.”
Who is this person that’s taken over my body? Who is this woman who’s needy and dirty and wet? When did I become her?
The Duke’s eyes darken as a wicked, wild look crosses his face.
With one movement of his hips, he drives himself inside me. I’m so wet he slides in easily, but he’s still so big it hurts. It hurts…until it doesn’t.
No, that’s not pain anymore. Oh, no. Not pain. That’s something else. My eyes widen. It’s good. I like that. A lot.
He pushes deep inside me and I gasp, closing my eyes to enjoy this moment. The emptiness is gone. The ache has disappeared. I’m so deliciously filled—with him. The Duke rocks his hips back and forth as I moan, my lips dropping open. I reach for the edge of the sofa. I need to brace myself for this.
Heath clamps one arm across my legs, holding them against his torso as he drives into me. A grunt escapes him, and I love it. I love the noises. I love knowing he’s losing control. With my legs pinned I know I’m tight around him, and I can see pleasure rippling across his features.
And me?
My body’s on fire. My veins are full of molten lava, being pumped to every corner of my being. I can’t breathe. I can’t think. I can’t even remember my own name.
When I close my eyes, I still see him. Heath. The Duke. My Duke.
The man who makes me see stars. The man who sets me alight and reminds me what it’s like to be a woman. The man who thought of fucking his fist to the memory of me. Those strong, broad hands wrapped around his shaft, his eyes closed, chest heaving, thinking of me.
Why is that so hot?
I open my eyes to see him watching me, his eyes dark. With one hand still clamped over my legs he leans over me, thrusting deeper. I moan. His free hand finds my breast and he tweaks my nipple softly, then harder. I gasp, rocking my hips against him and not even caring that I’m grunting and moaning and huffing like never before.
“You like my cock inside you?” he asks, his voice low. Commanding.
I moan, nodding.
“Say it.”
“I love it. I love your cock inside me.” Dirty, dirty words. Heat rips through my core when they come out of my mouth, but they’re true. I love his cock inside me. I love feeling every inch of it stretching me. Owning me. Marking me.
When the Duke reaches down between my legs and rolls his thumb over my clit, I come apart. A cry falls from my lips as the Duke tries to shush me, but I’m gone. I can’t think. I have no control. I pant his name, coming on his cock as a smile stretches over his lips. He whispers a thousand dirty things to me, pumping me so full that one orgasm bleeds into the next.
Then, I feel it. The tightening in his shaft. The thick, throbbing spurts. The tension ratcheting in his body. I watch the slackness of his jaw and the drooping of his eyelids. And I feel it. I feel his orgasm lashing inside me, hot and strong and mine. It belongs to me. To tonight. To this moment that we’re sharing.
As his hips rock one last time and his hands sweep over my body, I let out a long sigh. The Duke lets my legs drop open and, still joined to me, leans down to kiss me hard. I wrap my arms around his neck and my legs around his waist, tasting my first orgasm on his lips.
When the Duke pulls away, he lets out a slow exhale, staring deep in my eyes. “You’re special, Ada Belcourt. I haven’t felt like that in…ever.”
A blush stains my cheeks. “I was that good, was I?” I grin, but I know right away it was the wrong thing to say.
His face falls, and a bit of stone returns to his features. The Duke wasn’t talking about sex. He wasn’t talking about an orgasm. This was something more for him.
And me?
What does this mean to me?
