by Tessa Bowen
Izzy observed him through a hazy veil of desire. His gaze bore into hers as he steered her hips in a sultry cadence. His beautiful features were overwrought with ardor. Aroused, the Duke’s eyes were a bright, blistering blue. She adored the way his cheekbones went hollow when he clenched his jaw. He was buried to the hilt but she had to know more. She dug her thighs into his sides, and began to move faster. She knew the rhythm now—he had taught her well. The Duke’s hands were free to caress her. He cupped her breasts and the sides of her face as she bucked on top of him, finding her climax with a sweet, strangled cry.
Trevor followed suit, his passion culminating like a storm rocking the ocean’s waves. He wanted to shout like a madman, but was afraid he’d frighten her so he turned his face into the pillow, allowing the fabric to absorb his beastly growl.
Izzy collapsed onto his chest, gasping for breath. He stroked her smooth back and buttocks. She sound of his thundering heart pounded against her ear. They dozed for a moment or two, wrapped in each other’s warm limbs. To his surprise, Trevor felt her little hand creep down his flat belly and head straight for his groin.
He slapped it away with a grin. “You’ve had quite enough for now.”
“I want more sex.”
“It appears you are the addict, not I.”
“You’ve turned me into one.”
“You will hurt yourself.”
“You mean my ‘lady parts’?”
He gave her a hard pinch on her bottom and flung the sheets off. “I’ll never call it your ‘hoohaa’, so you may as well get used to lady parts.”
Izzy heaved a dreamy sigh. “You’re sucha gentleman.”
The Duke stalked across the room and threw the window open. He stood there in all his glorious nakedness, breathing in big lungful’s of salt air. He had of course been naked the night before, but the shadow of night had cloaked his fine physique. Now, morning light flooded the room and Isabel was not about to pass up her chance to ogle his male perfection. He was a tall drink, without a spare piece of flesh on him. He was made entirely of long, lean muscle held together by whip-like sinew and tendon. His washboard stomach twitched and rippled as he moved over to the bar and bent to retrieve a bottle of water from the mini fridge.
“Holy Crap, you’re gorgeous.”
He frowned disapprovingly. “Oh, stop.”
“You must work out like all the time.”
He grinned at her between chugs of water. “I see what you are doing with that sheet. Why are you covering yourself? Remove it at once.” When she shook her head and pulled the covers up to her nose, he walked over to the side of the bed and looked down at her. “Lost your nerve, have you?”
“I probably don’t look that good lying here naked. I mean nobody could look as good as you.”
“You were born to be naked, sweet girl.”
Sweet girl.
Izzy’s belly did flip-flops. She allowed him to pull the sheets down, squirming as his gaze travelled over her.
“My boobs are too small. I always wished they were bigger.”
“It wouldn’t be fitting for an elf to be busty, now would it?”
“Don’t you think they would look better if they were bigger?”
“No.” He placed the flat of his hand on the satiny nook between her dainty breasts. “They are just as they should be.”
Izzy wasn’t convinced. He was in the elite group of tall willowy people, so was his elegant Baroness. With a wistful exhale, she covered herself with her hands as he continued his intent study.
“Every part of you is tiny but perfectly formed.”
“I’m not perfect. I’m a runt.”
“If I say you are perfect, then you are.” He pulled her hands away from her body. “You have such wondrous skin as well, like a cocoa-bean.”
She snorted and rolled your eyes. “I know what you like. You like pale English swans with endless legs and perfect, long blonde hair.”
“Do I?”
“The Baroness is a long-necked swan.”
“Never mind the Baroness and her long neck. You are a rare and unique little bird and I find you very desirable.”
“Me? Desirable?”
“Yes, you silly twit. Do you think all that groaning was playacting?”
Trevor ruffled her short, black feathers and crawled in next to her. He landed a wet kiss to the curve of her shoulder and worked his way down the side of her hip and over the tops of her thighs. He rose up on his haunches and took her by her ankles then he lifted one leg high, putting her foot on display. “I’d still like to get you in a pair of knee socks someday.”
“You’re sucha weirdo pervert.”
He grinned wolfishly and started to suck and nibble her toes, running his tongue over each one with deliberate slowness.
“I want to gobble you up, sweet girl,” he purred. “Every inch of you.” He dragged his moist mouth up her leg, pausing at the top of her thigh to lift questioning eyes to her.
She stiffened, knowing what he was after.
“Will you let me taste you where you are most perfect, Isabel? I promise you’ll like it.”
She hid her face in her hands. “No!”
“I thought you wanted more sex.”
“I did—I do, but we already had sex.”
“You’re through with me then?”
She chewed her finger cutely and shook her head.
“This is a very good part of sex, some might say the best.”
“Is it better than all the other stuff you’ve done to me?”
“Not better, really—just different. Say yes, I only want to give you pleasure.”
“Oh, all right! God!”
As soon as the Duke put his mouth between her legs waves of ecstasy washed over her. Izzy gasped into the pillow, moaning inaudible words and arching her back as the cool breeze from outside tickled her breasts. His tongue twirled over her flesh, dancing in delicious circles and sinful swirls. Her whole body shook with rapture. What he was doing was exquisite torture. She twisted and heaved like a madwoman, her fingers digging into his shoulders as she wheezed with a mixture of pleasure and pain.
“Stop!” she begged. “I can’t stand it.”
“You don’t really want me to stop do you?”
“No!”
A low rumble of satisfaction sounded from deep in his chest. Skillfully, he continued to tongue her throbbing flesh. Izzy knew a spasmodic burst was coming soon, she feared this one might kill her. She would have bucked all the way off the bed if his hand had not held her pelvis flat. She was blinded by white-hot desire. Then he was inside her again, his body crushing her into the bed.
“You liked that—didn’t you, sweet girl?”
Izzy could only whimper her response. She was a complete slave to him now. “Yes…Your Grace.”
He pushed hard inside her, knowing she was ripe and ready as any woman could be. He claimed her small body with his much larger one, owning her with his male prowess. She wept as he made love to her. Crying and moaning and whispering—the three created a symphony of perfection. He had never wanted to consume a woman more. She was an open book, a shaking leaf beneath him, but it wasn’t just her body he craved; it was her soul as well.
“I want you to call me by my name,” he insisted.
“I…I…what name?”
She was beyond reason. What he was doing to her was a sublime form of torment. Sliding in and out of her like that—slowly—knowingly, retreating and sinking to the hilt again and again.
“When we do this together—when I’m inside you, I’m not the Devil Duke or His bloody Grace. I’m Trevor—just Trevor. Do you understand?” He wanted her to give into him completely. He craved absolute intimacy with her. “Say it.” He growled against her cheek. “I want to hear you say my name.”
Her lips trembled over the syllables. “T...Trevor.”
The Duke groaned his fulfillment, lifting her hips high to receive him. Passionately, she fed on his kisses, meeting hi
m thrust for thrust. This time their release was earth shattering. Izzy wondered if it was possible that a room could grow so hot that the paint would peel right off the walls.
AFTERWARDS, HE GAZED DOWN AT HER, propped up on one elbow. “Was I too forceful with you? You make me forget myself.”
She barely had the strength to speak. “You’re always…sucha…gentleman.”
“I want it to feel good for you all the time, every time.”
“It does.”
She traced one of his auburn brows, trailing downward to brush over the light sprinkling of freckles across his shoulders.
Trevor snatched up her fingers, brushing soft kisses across them. “Admiring my freckles are you?”
“I love the ones on your nose,” she sighed. “They make me weak in the knees.”
“It’s quite disgraceful really, that a man of my stature should have freckles—and across his nose. I mean really, how utterly embarrassing.”
“His Grace is a ginger,”
They exchanged lazy, exhausted grins. He had to kiss her again, the sweetness of her taste had worn off a bit and he wished it to be refreshed.
He pulled back, staring into her luminous eyes. “You must promise me something, don’t ever read any of those articles about me on the internet—or in the papers and magazines. You won’t feel the same way about me if you do.”
She nodded. “Okay.”
He gave her another kiss—this one was a long, slow, tender one. “What have you done to me? You’ve caught me in a fairy ring….you’ve bewitched me.”
“You’ve really lost your marbles,” she teased dreamily. “I’m a gutter rat, remember?”
“And a very appealing one it would seem.” Trevor worshipped her doll like features with the tip of his finger. When he pushed her hair back from her forehead his finger met with a patch of roughness. He peered closer, seeing that a scar marred her smooth brow. “What’s this?”
“Mrs. O’Leary pushed me in the kitchen and I fell on the edge of the counter.”
His eyes clouded over, flattening to a stormy grey. “How many more scars do you have from that wretched woman?”
“That’s it.”
He caressed the blemish brushing over it again and again as if he could wipe it away with his touch. “I am sorry you had such a rough time of it.”
“How do ya mean?”
“Your childhood…the things you told me, they haunt me. You don’t have to worry about money anymore. You know that, don’t you? I will take care of you. You will never have to live in an ugly place again…not ever.” Trevor tipped her chin with his finger so she was forced to meet his gaze. “Do you believe me?” he said intently. “I want you to be free from worry—free from your past. No matter what happens between us, I will always protect you. No harm can come to you now.”
When she hugged him tight, a fist knotted in his chest. He held onto her a moment before pushing her gently back to the pillow. The noisy wind sent the curtains fluttering.
The Duke threw a glance over his shoulder. “No gondola ride today, I’m afraid. I fear you will be locked in the Devil Duke’s chamber all afternoon. I will order you some food which you will eat, then you will place your ‘lady parts’ in a hot bath. That should revive them quite nicely.”
Izzy sat up in bed and licked her lips. Her appetite was stirring but not for food.
He padded over to the room service menu and sank into a plush, velvet chair. He took his time reading from it, holding it around his manhood like a tent. His hair was rumpled and he was quite naked, save the menu which concealed his most powerful asset.
“Then what will we do?” she asked hopefully. “After we eat, I mean.”
The Duke made his selection and snapped the menu shut.
“Professor Barrington will give you another lesson, sweet girl.”
Chapter Sixteen
Izzy let out a blissful sigh as she nuzzled the Duke’s collar. They lay against the plush velvet seat of a gently gliding gondola. The storm had broken and the sun was setting behind the pastel palazzos lining the canal.
His arms tightened around her. “Warm enough?”
She nodded and pressed her nose to the crisp fabric of his shirt, inhaling his masculine scent.
“I didn’t think I would ever get you out of that hotel room.”
“I like our lessons, Professor Barrington. You’re a good teacher.”
The Duke gave her a long, possessive kiss. When she quivered against him, he pressed her closer to his burgeoning desire. His hand swept down her back to ride just above her tailbone. She felt so good in his arms he almost forgot the gondolier was standing a few feet away.
He shot a glare at the man in the silly costume. “Bloody Hell, I have half a mind to pitch that bloke overboard and have my way with you.”
“I wish you would.”
“You best remove your luscious little body from my lap or I won’t be able to control myself.”
She wriggled her backside against his erection. “I don’t want you to control yourself.”
“Isabel, move to the other seat—do it now, damn you.” His chest rose and fell as he tugged at the collar of his shirt. “Good Lord, you’ll give me a bloody stroke. Let’s just try to enjoy the scenery, shall we?”
She eyeballed him from the opposite seat, letting her eyes drop to the swell in his trousers. “Oh—I am.”
“I’m trying to regain a shred of my dignity.”
“I was never really good at that one,” Izzy joked “Dignity, I mean.”
“No, decorum isn’t your strong suit.”
“What’s my strong suit?”
“I’ll tell you, if you sit up straight and cross your legs like a lady.”
Izzy did as she was told. It was a rare occurrence, but she wanted to get her compliment.
“Pluck is your greatest asset—pluck and that marvelous backside, of course.”
“What’s pluck mean, like…spunk?”
“Quite. I’ve never met anyone like you before,” he told her. “I find your unique set of qualities very…rejuvenating.”
“Yeah—rejuvenating, like a jolt of caffeine straight in your veins,” she wisecracked.
“More like a jolt straight up my arse.”
She threw herself back in his lap. “Your Grace!”
When he cuddled her close, she grew lazy in his arms. The sway of the boat and his woodsy scent lulled her into a dream-like state.
The Duke picked up her hand in his, studying it. It was so small and sweet. He thought of her as a child and the places she had grown up in.
“It’s not right that I have had so much and you have had so little. I want to make life easy for you now. I want to give you things…anything…everything.”
“I don’t want anything. This is enough.”
Gently, he caressed her cheek as she looked up at him. “You swallow me up with those eyes, Isabel. I could drown in them.”
“Don’t drown.”
“It would be a sweet death.”
“Okay, but can we have another lesson before you croak?”
TREVOR GRIPPED THE SIDES OF THE BATH TUB, sliding through the suds to claim his creamy delight.
“Bath time with Professor Barrington,” Izzy spluttered giddily, harpooning the spoon back into the hazelnut gelato. “You’ve wanted to take a bath with me for a long time, haven’t you? Admit it, you dirty old duke.”
“I’ll admit nothing.”
“At least the water is clean this time. Remember last time, I turned it all beige.”
“A hundred baths wouldn’t wash the naughty off of you.”
“You like me naughty though, don’t you? When I’m naughty you have to spank me.”
Trevor’s eyelids grew heavy as she blew a bubble off the tip of her finger. She rested her feet on his knees, which stuck up over the surface of the water because he was so tall. He brushed a thumb over the arch of her foot and then dropped his hand below the bubbles to rove the curve o
f her calf. He stroked the inside of her thigh, heading upward and inward.
“You like having that little rear of yours punished, don’t you?”
She tapped the end of her nose with the spoon and then licked her lips, making a loud smacking noise.
“Uh huh, almost as much as I like this ice cream.”
He gave her a hard yank by the ankle. “Oh, really—is that so, you little tart?”
She screeched as she sank into the frothy bath. Water spilled over the sides of the tub with a loud splash. She set herself straight, coughing and spluttering between chortles.
“Careful with my ice cream!”
The Duke watched with amusement as she laid into her treat with gusto. “You do seem to be enjoying it, don’t you?”
“It’s not like ice cream back home. It’s so much better. It’s like creamier and richer with a clean finish.”
“I see, you are an ice cream aficionado, are you?”
“I’m mostly an expert when it comes to candy bars.”
“Sounds like you need to work on your diet. No wonder you are so tiny. All that sugar probably stunted your growth. Then again, maybe that’s why you taste so sweet.”
“A candy bar is a good thing if you are flat broke. You get a lot of bang for your buck. The sugar will keep you going half the day.”
The Duke fell silent. The look on his face was odd. He looked pained and quite uncomfortable.
“What’s the matter?”
He pulled her through the water so that she lay against his chest. Concern marred his handsome brow. “I don’t like to think of you hungry. It sickens me, in fact. ”
“Well, I’m not hungry now,” she laughed. “I told you, I’ve gained ten pounds since I’ve been here.”
“You should gain ten more. I’m putting you on a high scone diet when we get back to England.”
“My boobs will be friggin’ enormous!”