Page 55 of If the Duke Demands

He only laughed wickedly at her protest, as if he knew exactly what her body craved from him and how to torment her in the most wickedly wonderful ways. The deep sound tickled her nipple and rumbled down her spine.

Hewasn’tplaying fair. She had breasts that he could easily expose, make peaked and aching, knead with his fingers and suckle with his mouth.Men.Even in intimacy they held all the advantages. It wasn’t as if she could pull off his shirt and do the same to—

A thought struck her, an utterly delicious thought. She nearly laughed in impish delight at the devilishness of it. Oh, it would torment him in kind to what he was doing to her! But fair was fair, and if he could play by this new set of rules, then so could she.

Twisting on his lap to give herself room, she wriggled her hand down between their bodies, finding the buttons on the fall of his trousers and quickly slipping them free.

He tensed, his eyes darkening with intense arousal. “What are you doing?”

“Something else,” she whispered her words from the opera. Letting herself be daring and wicked, ignoring the nervous tremble of her fingers, she slipped her hand inside his trousers before he could stop her.

He sucked in sharply through clenched teeth as his body instantly stiffened. With a throaty laugh, she boldly closed her hand around him and drew him free of his trousers, cupped against her palm beneath the folds of her skirt.

“Miranda,” he warned in a hoarse rasp, but he didn’t stop her.

She was too fascinated by his hard manhood beneath her fingers to heed any warning. So soft on the outside, so steely hard beneath, long and thick, surprisingly warm…She could have sworn she felt him pulse against her hand like a racing heartbeat, and when she traced her fingertips along his length and over his tip, she found a bead of wetness gathered at the tiny slit. She wrapped her fingers around his girth and squeezed.

He shuddered as a curse tore from his lips, and his hand darted down after hers.

Her lips parted in protest. How dare he pull her hand away when he’d submitted her to such delicious torture? That he would end this wonderful moment now—

“Like this,” he instructed. His hand folded over hers and showed her how to rub the drop of moisture into his skin to make him slippery beneath her fingertips, how to squeeze and stroke over him…Up and down his shaft, from the engorged tip all the way to the base, hard and fast. He half growled, “Dear God, yes…just like that.”

His eyes squeezed shut as he hung his head, drinking in the pleasure she gave him. There was no denying now how much he wanted her hands on him, and her chest soared with the newfound power she held over him.

He slid his hand away from hers and stroked up her body. His fingers tangled in her skirt and bunched it up around her knees, unable to raise it higher because of the way she lay across his thighs. But high enough to reveal the lace edges of her stockings, high enough that his hand easily slipped beneath to caress his fingers along the bare stretch of inner thigh. She whimpered as a wanton desire to be caressed between her legs engulfed her, to have his hand right there on the aching spot where she longed for it to be.

“I’m going to touch you now,” he warned, his own breath coming in uneven pants as she continued to pump her hand over him. “If you want me to stop—”

“Don’t stop!” The thought of his hands leaving her body was unbearable. “Please, Sebastian. I want this.” His hand brushed up between her legs, and when his bare fingers teased lightly against her folds, she whimpered at how wicked it felt to be touched there, and how unbelievably good. “Oh yes…please.”

He kissed her tenderly and groaned, “Rose.”

His fingers began to more boldly caress her, sliding deeper against her with each stroke until he slipped inside. With a gasp of surprise, she quivered around him, then all those tiny muscles clenched down tight around his fingers as he languidly stroked inside her.

Moaning with need, she closed her eyes and spread her legs as far as her skirt allowed. She was behaving so scandalously, so wickedly—

And she simply didn’t care.

His fingers felt too good as they both soothed the growing ache inside her and intimately explored her body, his lips too strong and hot-moist for logic to persuade her to stop. Her entire existence narrowed to the swirling plunges of his long fingers inside her, to the masculine scent of him that filled her senses, to the shaking of his hard, muscular thighs beneath her. She’d never imagined that surrender could feel so victorious. And judging from the soft, guttural grunts of pleasure that came from him as she continued to stroke him, neither did he.

“Sebastian,” she panted, now begging for something more, something she couldn’t name but knew he could give her. Her hips writhed over his thighs, her body silently pleading for release from the mounting ache he flamed inside her.

He twirled his thumb and touched the little nub nestled into the top of her folds. A jolt of pleasure shot through her so hard, so fast that she cried out beneath the breathtaking delight of it.

His mouth seized hers and muffled her cries, but her hand clenched hard around his erection, squeezing with a fierce stroke. She heard him groan against her lips, felt him jerk against her palm—a wet warmth spilled across her fingers.

For a moment, she couldn’t move. She could do nothing more than lie there and let the shuddering waves of pleasure lap over her. Her body was simultaneously stunned by what had happened and instantly relaxed as she draped herself across his lap, her breasts bare to the shadows and her legs spread wide. She breathed deep and slow as she found her breath, enjoying the rapid flutter of her heart in her chest and the low heat that slowly diminished between her legs.

Only then did she open her eyes and realize he was staring down at her, an unreadable expression on his handsome face. Only then did she comprehend…She lifted her hand and saw her fingers glistening in the dim lamplight.

“Oh,” she whispered, so soft the word was barely more than a breath. Then she realized what she’d done—good Lord, whatthey’ddone together—and a hot blush flushed her cheeks. Mortified at her own brazenness, she tried to scramble off his lap. But she was still lying across his thighs, still off balance with her dress now all akimbo, and all she managed to do was catch him in the abdomen with her elbow. “Oh!”

Despite the rush of his exhaled breath, he didn’t move to set her away and instead held her shoulder to keep her still. His other hand reached up to untie his cravat, and he stared at her uncertainly as he pulled the knots free and unraveled it from around his neck. He asked gently, “Are you all right?”

All right?No, she wasn’t all right. She’d just—in a carriage! Oh Lord…She blinked back hot tears, praying he couldn’t see them in the dark shadows. “I’m fine,” she lied as he took her hand and gently wiped her fingers clean with his neck cloth.

Guilt crossed his face as he glanced away but assured her quietly, “Don’t worry. You’re still innocent.”