The Desires of a Duke: Historical Romance Collection

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The Desires of a Duke: Historical Romance Collection Page 12

by Darcy Burke


  She moved her hand to cover herself, but he reached out and stopped her. “Please. Don’t. I just want to look. Can I?” He raised his eyes to hers, and she saw stark need, but also courtesy. If she said no, he’d let her go. Of that, she had no doubt.

  She let her hand fall to her side and forced herself to relax. There would never be another night like this. She wanted to immerse herself in the experience. In him.

  He moved closer, pausing in front of her as his gaze dropped to her chest. Her breasts tingled beneath his stare. She wouldn’t think she could feel so sensitive without him touching her. He stepped around to her side—slowly, his gaze probing her in ways she wasn’t sure his hands could.

  She felt vulnerable, standing naked before him. She’d never been more keenly aroused, had never imagined such a sensation existed.

  He moved behind her. She felt his breath against her neck. He was close. But not so close that he touched her. A thrill tickled her spine. Her breasts pulled. She glanced down and saw her nipples had grown hard.

  He came around her other side, entering her line of sight once more. His dark head was bent. She caught his sandalwood scent. It only heightened her arousal.

  She wanted to look at him the same way he was surveying her. “You’re wearing far too many clothes.” It was all she could manage. Her voice was made of small, hard pebbles.

  “I am.” He sat on the edge of the chair and pulled off his boots. His stockings followed as he peeled them off in quick succession.

  He stood and pulled the tail of his shirt from his breeches. She went to him and covered his hands with hers. “May I?”

  He looked at her, his eyes gleaming like emeralds. “Yes.” His hands stilled, then fell to his sides. She drew the shirt up, exposing his flesh. He was unimaginably muscular, the planes of his abdomen sculpted like a statue.

  He raised his arms as she pulled the garment over his head. She dropped the linen to the floor, heedless of where it landed. Thoughts fled her brain like bees in a downpour. She was absolutely speechless at his beauty.

  Unlike him, however, she couldn’t keep herself from touching him. She reached out and caressed her fingertips against the space between his belly and his chest. He was warm and smooth and hard.

  He flinched and sharply inhaled.

  She snatched her hand away and looked back up at his face.

  He found her hand and put it back on his chest, higher this time, where it wasn’t smooth, but dusted with dark hair. “Don’t stop. Unless you want to.”

  She didn’t want to. She flattened her palm against him, reveling in the feel of his hair and the plane of his flesh beneath.

  “Nora,” he rasped. “I’d like to touch you too. May I?”

  She realized she hadn’t asked for permission, but he didn’t seem to mind. She was flattered that he’d thought to do that. “Yes. Please.”

  She tensed, eager but also afraid.

  He gently skimmed his fingertips along her shoulder, moving inward to her collarbone then drifting downward between her breasts. She tensed, but his touch was light, deft. He drew his hand through the soft valley then beneath her right breast. His knuckles brushed the underside, and it was her turn to gasp.

  His hand curved and came up, cupping her. He was still incredibly gentle, going as slowly as she could ever want.

  “Is this difficult for you?” she asked.

  “In what way?” He cradled her, his thumb brushing over her breast in ever increasing swaths, bringing him closer and closer to her nipple.

  She found herself straining, wanting that touch. Needing that connection. “You’re so…controlled. I can barely keep a thought in my head.”

  “You seem to think I have many, when in fact I have just one—pleasuring you.”

  Oh God. Her knees quivered, her thighs, all of her took on the properties of a jelly.

  He wrapped his arm around her waist and held her. Finally, finally, his thumb brushed over her nipple and then the unthinkable happened. He bent and took her into his mouth, his lips closing over her flesh.

  She’d kept her hand on him throughout his exploration, but she wanted more. She moved her hand to his head and curled her fingers into his hair. His grip on her waist tightened as he tongued her. The strokes were light at first, teasing, but grew with intensity until he was nearly devouring her with his mouth. Or at least that was how she would describe it. And she could think of no finer characterization, because it made her feel distinctly hungry. For what, she wasn’t yet certain, but she knew he would satisfy her. He’d said his only thought was to pleasure her.

  She closed her eyes as he feasted, moving to her other breast. She let her head fall back as she held on to him—one hand twisted into his hair and the other clasping his shoulder. Heat and desire flowed through her until a wild craving built between her thighs. She knew what would happen next, what could happen, if she allowed it.

  She shouldn’t, but why not? This night was for her. He wanted her to have the power of choice, and she chose this.

  His mouth left her breast just before his hand cradled her neck. She opened her eyes to see he’d straightened and was looking at her. She thought he might say something, but he didn’t. His mouth descended on hers, and his lips and tongue consumed her. This was like no kiss she’d ever imagined. She realized everything about this was beyond her comprehension, and she felt a moment’s sadness that she’d existed for twenty-seven years without experiencing this. Another reason to embrace it—him—while she could. She closed her eyes again and let herself dissolve into this moment.

  He held her head captive while he pillaged her mouth, his tongue licking, his lips suckling. She tried to mimic what he did, using her tongue, clasping at his flesh, but feared she was a hopeless amateur.

  With the hand around her waist, he pulled her against him. Their chests met, and she moaned into his mouth. Her breasts, already enflamed from his kisses, grew even more sensitive. The sensations in her nipples pulsed through her and settled between her legs, driving her hips forward.

  Though he still wore clothing over his lower half, she felt the length of his arousal against her lower belly. Need exploded there, but it wasn’t quite right. She stood on her toes, seeking to position him in the right spot. Then he grazed it, and light flickered behind her eyelids.

  He broke the kiss and in a fluid movement, picked her up and delivered her to the settee. He laid her gently on the cushions and stared down at her. His jaw was clenched, and she had the sense that he was just barely composed. She wondered if he ever let himself go completely. She wanted to see that.

  “Nora, shall I stop?”

  “Now? It’s just becoming interesting.” That flash of pleasure she’d felt hinted at far more to come. There was no way she would allow him to stop. “Show me what to do.”

  “You are incomparable.” A faint smile lifted his lips. He knelt on the cushion near her feet. He clasped the ankle next to the back of the settee and pushed her leg up. Then he wrapped his hand around the other ankle, his thumb massaging her flesh. “Trust me to give you pleasure. Can you do that?”

  She nodded, her body screaming for release. His hand glided up her calf, stroking her softly as he ascended her leg. Her breath came more quickly, and her pulse pounded in her ears. He flattened his palm against her inner thigh and pushed, exposing her most sensitive flesh.

  Instinctively she tried to close her legs, but he held her firmly. “Trust me, Nora.”

  He gripped her leg thus while his right hand moved between her thighs. His fingertips skimmed along her flesh. She bucked her hips, shocked at the intimate contact.

  He held her fast and stroked her, eliciting the same sensation she’d felt when she’d pushed against him. But it was over and over again, building. His touch became firmer, his thumb finding a particularly sensitive spot that made her cry out. He leaned over and kissed her again, his mouth open and wet and so wonderful.

  She kissed him back, desperate for something to keep he
r from exploding. His finger slipped inside of her then, and once more, her hips came up off the settee.

  He ripped his mouth from hers, and their ragged breathing filled the room. His hand continued its delicious assault, provoking her into a mindless frenzy. Without intent, her hips rotated into his touch, seeking more.

  His breath rushed against her ear. “I want to put my mouth on you. Will you let me?”

  She tried to understand his words, but it was nearly impossible for now he was also kissing her neck, ravishing her flesh. She tipped her head back against the cushion and moaned.

  “Nora, please.”

  She clutched at his back, her fingers digging into his flesh and strove to answer. “Your mouth…where?”

  His finger plunged into her, and light flashed again behind her eyes. “Here.”

  Yes, God, yes, whatever he wanted.

  She must’ve spoken out loud because he moved down her body, his mouth leaving a trail of wicked kisses in its wake. When his tongue licked her there, she made a ghastly sound. A sound she didn’t think a woman could make.

  He didn’t take his time, nor was he gentle. As with her breasts, he devoured her, his lips and tongue coaxing her into an increasingly fervent state. She thrust up into him, seeking that sweet release she knew must be coming.

  He suckled that sensitive spot as his finger stroked into her, and everything inside of her pulled taut. Time seemed to freeze as her body convulsed. Then the world simply exploded.

  Chapter 11

  Titus felt her orgasm wash through her. Her muscles clenched, and moisture flooded his tongue. Her release, the totality of her abandon, was the sweetest thing he’d ever tasted.

  His cock throbbed in his breeches. Menswear was simply not meant for lovemaking. He leaned back and watched her as he stroked her through the aftermath. She was, by far, the loveliest woman he’d ever beheld. And it wasn’t to do with the pale perfection of her breasts, or the gentle slope of her hip, or the rose hue of her lush lips. It was about her trust in him and her boldness in taking what she wanted.

  He’d wanted to give her pleasure, and she’d taken it. Indeed, she’d grabbed it with both hands and met it in the most primal fashion. He was, in a word, enraptured.

  But he would stop if she asked him to. He’d done what he’d intended. Far more, actually. He’d come here just to be in the same house as this woman who’d thoroughly enchanted him. He’d never imagined they would come together—and certainly not like this. Which wasn’t to say he hadn’t fantasized about it. He’d pictured her thus—naked and sprawled before him, her flesh pink from pleasure—far too many times to count.

  She opened her eyes and gazed at him in wonder.

  He forced himself to speak. “Nora, if you want me to stop, it must be now.”

  She glanced down at the bulge in his breeches. “What about you?”

  “This was never about me. It was about you.”

  “Then I’m not finished.” She sat up and reached for the buttons of his fall. “We’re not finished.”

  He clasped her hands, effectively stilling them. “Nora, if we continue, you will no longer be as you are. Do you understand?”

  “I am already no longer as I was. And thank God for that. Thank God for you.” Her brow arched. “If you think I’m letting you leave now, you haven’t been paying attention.”

  He enjoyed the slight narrowing of her eyes, the dark intent in her gaze. “You’re rather despotic, aren’t you?”

  “Yes, if I must be. Titus…”

  He watched her search for the words to say what she wanted and decided to rescue her. “If you insist.”

  “I do.” She pushed his hand away and continued with his buttons until his breeches gapped open. Then she tugged at the garment. “Off.”

  He stood and stripped his clothing away until he stood nude before her. He expected her gaze to affix on his hardened cock and wasn’t disappointed. He was surprised however, and perhaps shouldn’t have been, when she reached out and ran her fingertips along his length.

  She sucked in a breath and continued to stare at him as a bead of moisture formed at the tip. She stroked him again and tentatively touched the drop. She glanced up at him. “What does it taste like?”

  He tried not to laugh and failed. “I’m sure I don’t know.”

  She nodded slowly as her gaze dropped once more. “Your flesh is much softer than I imagined.” She curled her fingers around him, instinctively knowing what to do to please him. At least, he assumed it was instinct.

  “Nora, you are inexplicably expert at this.”

  “Am I?” She continued caressing his shaft, and he couldn’t stop his hips from snapping forward. He’d been on the verge of orgasm when he’d pushed her over the edge, but had managed to keep a handle on himself. “There it is again,” she murmured. Then her head tipped forward, and her tongue darted out to catch the next drop that had beaded on the head.

  “Good God, Nora, you are going to kill me.”

  “Hmmm, salty. More of…that comes out…later?”

  “When I have an orgasm, yes. Like you did.”

  “But this could make me with child.” She frowned. Her hand continued its slow but wondrous torture. “That would be a problem.”

  Hell yes, it would. “There are precautions,” he said tightly. “Not infallible, but nothing is.”

  “Then you shall employ them.” She tightened her grip, unwittingly sending him even closer to the edge. “Let us continue.”

  “We have been this entire time. Have you no inkling what you’ve been doing to me?”

  She arched that damned brow again. “I’m not a simpleton.”

  “No, by God, you are not.”

  He pushed her back on the settee and settled himself between her legs. “Please forgive me my gracelessness. I have absolutely no experience with virgins.”

  “I think you have an inaccurate perspective as to how this encounter has progressed. If you haven’t noticed, I’m enjoying myself immensely. And I don’t expect that to change. You are far too considerate.” She pulled at his hips. “Please, Titus. Just do remember to take whatever precautions are necessary.”

  Yes, he would need to keep his wits about him. The second his cock touched her, he feared he was lost. He guided himself inside her, unsure of what to expect. She was unfathomably tight. Her muscles gripped his shaft as he slid slowly into her slick passage.

  He teased her clitoris, sensing her tense the farther he intruded. He coaxed her flesh, stirring her until he felt her relax. Then he pushed himself to the hilt.

  He leaned forward and brushed his lips against her temple. “Are you uncomfortable?”

  “No. This is…pleasant, actually. That feeling I had before, the sensation that I might rip in two… I fear it might be returning.”

  Fear? “You didn’t like it?”

  “Oh no, I adored it.”

  Incomparable indeed.

  He began to move, slowly at first. He didn’t want to hurt her. Soon, she was moving with him, her hips arcing up. The friction was beyond spectacular. He wasn’t going to last long but suspected that was for the best. If he could just bring her with him…

  He found her clitoris again and worked her flesh until her movements became more emphatic. She thrust with him, the room filling with the sounds of their bodies coming together.

  He drove faster, and his orgasm sped to its conclusion. “Come with me, Nora.” He vaguely realized she had no idea what he meant, but then it happened. She cried out, and her muscles constricted around him. His balls tightened, and he just barely managed to pull out before he spilled inside of her. Instead, he came on her belly, which was, as he’d feared, rather graceless.

  Powerless to do anything but empty his seed, he stroked his shaft until he was complete. Satisfaction—bone-deep and toe-curling—pitched through him. But what a mess.

  “See, I said you would need to forgive me.” He moved away from her and found his discarded cravat. Then he retur
ned and wiped her flesh clean.

  “Better there than in the other…place,” she said, showing a sense he found devastatingly attractive. Along with everything else about her.

  He helped her sit up, then presented her with her night clothes. While she covered herself, he set about conducting his own toilet. His valet would cringe at the state of his clothing, but Titus didn’t care. This had been the best night he could recall in a ridiculously long time. Maybe in the entirety of his life.

  “That was…astonishing.” Her declaration seemed to mirror his thoughts, sending a jolt of pleasure through him.

  “Indeed.”

  She stood from the settee and tied the sash around her night robe. “You are still a man of few words.”

  He sat on the chair to pull on his stockings and boots. “I thought I spoke plenty.”

  Her answering smile was devilish, and he knew in that moment that he’d never be able to look at her again without thinking of this encounter, of what they’d shared. No matter what happened, they were connected on a level he’d never experienced.

  “You did, actually,” she said. “Quite shockingly. I do thank you for taking those…precautions. But mostly, I must thank you for allowing me to satisfy my curiosity.”

  Hopefully it meant more to her than that. It had to him. “Is that what this was, an experiment?”

  She lifted a shoulder. “Not that, but maybe a question for which I had no answer until now.”

  He loved how her mind worked. “And what is the answer?”

  “That I can trust myself to choose what I want. That maybe what I thought I wanted isn’t. You’ve given me much to think about. I guess I maybe don’t have the actual answer yet. Perhaps this is a conversation we can have another time.” She yawned, which seemed to punctuate her statement.

  She leaned forward and kissed his cheek, surprising him. It was a sweet gesture. No one had done that except his stepmother. It made him feel…safe.

  “Good night, Titus. Sleep well.” She went to the door and opened it, looking over her shoulder before she left. “I know I shall.”

 

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