Page 76 of The Duchess He Couldn’t Resist

“Yes,” was all the answer that she could give.

He hummed in approval, and his thumb circled her center as his fingers relentlessly moved inside her wetness. That was almost too much for her. That same coil tightened inside her. Her breathing turned ragged, and she brazenly moved her hips to match his rhythm.

“I can feel it, sweetheart,” he whispered in her ear. “You’re so close.”

And she was. Oh, God, she was. Her eyes closed, her body tensed, her hips rolled into his fingers with urgency. And then he stopped.

“Not yet,” he murmured. “You will not come just yet, Marigold. When you do, it will be with me inside you.”

And then he removed his hand altogether, leaving her empty and bereft, a whimper escaping her mouth. Marigold was very close to begging when he spun her around and made her face him. She had exactly one moment to look upon his eyes. She felt on her skin that dark and tense look as if it were a physical touch.

There was no warning when her back hit the mattress. He followed her, resting on his arms and elbows, just a breath away from her.

“Tell me, Marigold,” he leaned into her ear, “do you want me to allow you to come?”

She gulped and swallowed and could not answer for the life of her. Brandon chuckled cruelly and gave her earlobe a soft bite.

“I asked you a question, Marigold,” he warned her.

She mustered all her courage and decided that pleasure was too close to linger on pride or sanity. Both were overrated when he looked down at her, ready to offer her the kind of intensity she needed.

“Please, Brandon,” she begged breathlessly. “Let me come, please.”

His lips came down on her mouth, deep, claiming, and hungry. She met his fervor, her tongue slowly gliding over his. A low growl was his response as her hands slid into his hair.

Brandon positioned himself and settled between her thighs. It was so intimate and almost alien, but her body instinctively cradled him. She could feel all of him, hot and hard, just pressed against her entrance. Her breath could only come in short gasps, and she could hear in her ears her heart drumming.

He looked down into her eyes, searching. Despite his demanding voice, his look was soft.

“This will hurt, Marigold,” he said gently but firmly, “but I promise you it will pass. Do you trust me?”

“I do,” she said without a second thought.

Without ever taking his eyes off of hers, he pushed forward just slightly, just the crown of him that she was so familiar with pressing into her. Her body clenched on instinct, tightly, still untried.

“It’s just me, sweetheart.”

Somehow, this reassurance made her limbs relax just a little, just enough for him to push deeper. This time, the stretch was far more intense than his fingers, his girth not comparing.

“Mm,” she gasped and dug her fingers into his shoulders.

Instantly, he stopped, holding still although his whole body was trembling by the effort. Even so, she felt that sharp pinch at her core.

“Do you want me to stop, Marigold?”

She took a breath and listened to her body. The pain was already fading, and as he shifted slightly, it was replaced by a sensation of fullness that was worth every discomfort.

“Don’t stop!” She clawed at his back this time, not to stop him but to urge him on.

“You are doing so well, Marigold,” he said, impressed, one kiss on her forehead. “Just breathe, sweetheart.”

Another kiss on her nose, and then he pushed again. On the corner of her lips and then some more. He took her lips in a slow, wet kiss and pushed through the last resistance.

“Brandon!”

He was now fully seated inside her. She bit her lips, not from pain but because she felt impossibly stretched and full.

For a few moments, Brandon did not move. He just stayed inside her, connecting them, just breathing into her neck, letting her body adjust to his length.