Page 77 of The Duchess He Couldn’t Resist

“Oh, you’re so tight,” he murmured against her lips. “You feel so good against me, so perfect.”

Marigold looked up into his face, and she saw that he too was lost in the sensation of them together. It was so intense seeing him like this that her inner walls pulsated around him.

“You’re making it very hard to hold back, sweetheart,” he said with a tightened jaw.

And then very slowly, he withdrew almost all the way out. She gasped as she felt every inch of him sliding against her sensitive walls. Equally slow, almost achingly, he buried himself inside her.

The discomfort was just a distant sensation, drowned by something else, something deeper. It was a pleasure building inside her that surpassed everything that Brandon had made her feel up to this point.

“There you are,” Brandon said as he read her body.

He established a slow, deliberate rhythm. He dipped his fingers around her hips to keep her steady as he moved inside her. As if they had done this a thousand times before, her hips began to move with his, to match his pace.

“Yes,” she breathed. “Like that.”

Her hands could not stay idle and roamed to his back, his shoulders, down his arms, as if she could not touch enough of him. His response was a hot, burning kiss. When they gasped for air, he stared into her eyes.

“I can’t stop, Marigold,” he growled. “I can’t control myself anymore.”

Marigold had never felt more powerful in her life, and in response, she clenched around him. That was enough to unleash him. Every shred of his resolve shattered, and his breath became a ragged sound. He sighed and drove himself into her, surrendering completely to the moment.

And Marigold was right there with him. She could not hold back, her moans becoming louder, her nails digging into his flesh, and her thighs pulling him deeper.

“That’s it,” he praised her.

That was all she needed to feel the tension inside her reach a crest that made her body arc off the bed.

“Brandon!” she cried out his name, loud and uninhibited and raw.

“Come for me, Marigold,” he demanded. “I want to feel you.”

Her body yielded to his command almost instantly. She came around him in rhythmic waves that took her breath away. Her mind blanked with pleasure, her soul both settling and leaving her body. Her walls clenched deliciously, constricting around him.

“Marigold!” Brandon let out a guttural groan. “Yes, such a good girl. Look at you coming for me.”

She was still shaking and trembling while he thrusted uncontrollably. Her hands felt every muscle in his back lock tight. He arched into her one final time as he spilled inside her.

“Oh, sweetheart,” he said almost in awe.

His head fell forward into the crook of her neck, breathless, almost crushing her with his weight before he shifted. He collapsed beside her, but not before he pulled her with him.

Drenched in sweat, both their essences running down her body, Marigold found herself half draped across his massive chest. For a while, all they could do was breathe hard. That was the only sound she could hear besides his pounding heart under her ear.

“Marigold,” his voice was rough and tender.

As if waking up from a good dream, she looked up at him.

“How are you feeling? Did I hurt you?”

“Only in the beginning, and only for a moment.”

He caressed her face and pushed the wet strands of hair off. His look was warm and yet bewildered, as if he had witnessed something that he was not expecting. Marigold found it extremely satisfying to see him like this.

“You did so well, Marigold.” He traced her lower lip with his thumb. “You are a very good girl.”

Somehow her cheeks became even more inflamed under his praise and the way his thumb toyed with her lips, a whisper of a promise.

She nestled deeper into his warmth, her body still thrumming with the echo of his touch, and for the first time in her life, Marigold felt completely and utterly claimed, not as a possession but as his.