The Lovely Duckling (Fiery Tales Book 8)

by Lila DiPasqua

  Fresh unshed tears blurred her sight.

  Gracious God. If this was a dream, she didn’t want to wake up.

  “What—What about our friendship, Vincent? I don’t want to lose that …” She didn’t have many dear friends. And none like him.

  “A few days and nights of carnal diversions won’t change anything. It’s only while we’re here. You’ve come to find a man to show you sexual pleasure. Let me be that man.” He brushed his lips ever so lightly against hers. Her nerve endings quivered with life. She parted her lips for him, but he pulled away. “You won’t be bored with me,” he wickedly promised. “And you don’t need to wear a mask with me either.” He tugged it and the wig from her grip and dropped them to the floor.

  “Let me give you what you want.” Vincent slipped his hand inside her cloak and cupped her breast. She sucked in a breath. His thumb began drawing scintillating circles around her nipple. Each circular caress making her feel weak and wet. Her sex, slick and needy. The hardened tip of her breast was straining for him, aching for his touch. “I’ll make you come …hard … again and again.” He grazed his thumb over her sensitized nipple, tearing a soft cry from her. “All you have to do is surrender to me. Say, ye—”

  She shot up onto the balls of her feet, fisted his justacorps, and crushed her mouth against his.

  Vincent pushed her up against the wall firmly. Cupping her face, he took command of the kiss, tilting her head to the side, sliding his tongue past her lips, possessing her mouth in a delicious, unhurried kiss. Unlike her masked lover in the gardens, Vincent gave her slow, luscious strokes with his tongue, sending waves of pleasure rippling through her. The bud between her legs began to pulse. He kissed even better than she’d imagined any man could. Emilie tightened her grip on his coat, a moan escaping her throat.

  Her breaths erratic, she kissed him with urgency, unable to hold to his languorous pace. His taste was intoxicating. She couldn’t get enough, sucking and stroking his tongue with famished zeal. This was “it.” The hunger and heat she sought. Her fever mounted by the moment.

  Then his lips were gone. Her eyes flew open. Dazed and bereft, she stared back at him, unable to catch her breath.

  He was smiling. “I just knew you were going to taste that good. And be that passionate. I can’t wait to taste the rest of you. I’m going to savor every sweet drop.”

  His comment made her insides quiver. “That’s odd … I was going to say the same thing.”

  His brows lifted, then he burst into a laugh. He pushed her back against the wall and gave her a fast fierce kiss she felt all the way down to her toes.

  “I can’t wait to have you, spirited and sensual Emilie de Sarron,” he murmured, his mouth on the sensitive spot below her ear, slowly moving down her neck.

  Emilie closed her eyes.

  Oh my … No one had ever called her that. His words coiled around her heart. She cautioned herself. It would be too easy to fall wildly in love with him. And she couldn’t.

  This was only an affair. Of the temporary variety.

  This is going to happen. Vincent is going to be your lover … She’d be pleasured by this beautiful Aristo, reputed for his carnal skills. His sexual talents matched only by his twin. Better still, her first amorous encounter would be with a man who actually mattered to her.

  And she was seizing the opportunity with eager hands.

  Joseph slipped his arm around her waist and pulled her up against him, crushing his cock against her belly. Relishing the feel of her against his body. His prick gave a hungry throb. He’d never taken a virgin. Never found the notion of having an inexperienced woman in bed enticing. Yet he wanted to sink his length inside this woman more than he wanted his next breath.

  Grasping the fabric of her cloak with one hand, Joseph pulled it open, unveiling her. She stiffened and tried to pull away. He tightened his arm around her waist. “Easy. You’re safe with me.” He moved his gaze down her slender neck to the swells of her breasts above her décolletage. Luscious mounds rose and fell with her quickened breaths. The expanse of satiny skin beckoned and beguiled him. Lightly, he ran his fingertips over the curves of her breasts along the scooped neckline. She jerked in his arms. He could feel her racing heart. He could see her nipples were hard and pressing against the inside of her gown. And he could only imagine how sweet those little tips would taste on his tongue. When he met her gaze, he found her eyes were darker with passion. “The cloak has to go.” He kept his voice soft but firm.

  “My cloak?” There was a touch of alarm in her tone.

  “We’ll remove as much of your clothing as you’re comfortable with, but the cloak goes.” He wasn’t going to relent on this. “You have a gown on. You don’t need it, and quite frankly, I hate it.”

  “Really?” She looked down at the thing. “I thought it was pretty.”

  Dieu, she’d worn them for so long, she actually did. No matter what color or expensive fabrics she chose, it was no more than a shapeless mantle that hung from shoulder to ankle. A different way to hide herself from society. He wasn’t going to let her. He didn’t want to see her hidden behind it any longer. She should never have been made to feel she needed to conceal herself in the first place. He was determined to coax her clothing off her layer by layer. By the end of the week, she was going to be naked in his bed. Not for a moment did he believe she could repel him, no matter what her scars looked like.

  And he had a strong suspicion he knew exactly where on her body they were located. In every illustration she favored in her erotic volume the woman faced her lover. The marring had to be on her back. Something to keep in mind as he disrobed her.

  “Sex is about mutual pleasure, and it pleases me to see more of you. Take it off, Emilie.” He dipped his head and lightly bit her soft earlobe. He liked her little gasp. “Do it. I’ll make it worth your while.”

  Reluctantly, he released her and stepped back. Like a curtain, the cloak closed again, cocooning her within. He waited. Impatiently. Fighting back the urge to rip the thing off for her.

  A myriad of emotions crossed her face. She vacillated. Merde. Seeing her struggle with the removal of a simple cloak pierced him to the core—proof just how greatly the teasing and taunts she’d endured had affected her. Yet for all they’d put her through, incredibly she hadn’t become caustic or bitter. As many would have in her place. She was quick to smile. Sweet and affectionate. Passionate, provocative and intelligent. Engaging in every way.

  She hadn’t allowed anyone to break her true spirit.

  She amazed him. He admired her. Something he couldn’t say about most of the people he knew.

  Silently he willed her to discard the cloak. Wanting it more for her than for himself.

  Slowly she raised her hands and grasped the fastenings. His heart soared. Averting her gaze, she loosened the ties, and pulled the cloak off her shoulders. It fell to the floor.

  She wore a light blue gown trimmed with yellow ribbons, and it accentuated her delectable feminine attributes—her body clearly defined before him for the first time. His mouth went dry. Even though he knew she had a luscious form, he was unprepared for the vision she’d be without the cloak.

  “Jésus-Christ, you’re ravishing,” he breathed. By her expression, it was obvious his comment had unbalanced her. He’d noted the same reaction each time he complimented her. He was bloody well going to keep giving them until she believed him.

  “Come here, Emilie.” He suddenly felt angry. All this loveliness senselessly shrouded. For years. He was going to make it up to her. In every way he could. Starting with giving her the sexual pleasure she sought and making her come harder than she’d ever imagined.

  She stepped closer, her slight frown telling him she didn’t care for the sharpness of his tone.

  He captured her chin. “From now on, whenever we’re alone, you’ll not wear that cloak. Or any cloak. Do you understand?” She opened her mouth to respond, but he continued. “You’ll not wear any caleçons for the rest of
the week either.”

  “Not wear my cloak or my drawers?” Disbelief was in her voice.

  He placed his hands on her shoulders and pressed her back against the wall. “That’s correct. In fact, ma belle, it’s an order. Your sweet little sex is all mine for the next few days. You’re going to give me easy access to it, and I’ll have you frequently and anytime I want.” He smiled. “I catch you wearing either, I may just have to punish you in whatever wicked method I choose.”

  Curiosity flared in her green eyes. He loved it that his words didn’t put her off. Instead they spiked her interest. Seeing it sent a shot of hot excitement through his body, causing his cock to seep more spunk. He had to have her. Soon. After months of mounting desire for her, he couldn’t take much more.

  She tilted her head to one side, those magnificent eyes studying him. “I’m seeing a rather overbearing side of you tonight. For your information, I don’t respond to orders.” The mischief in her expression belied her stern tone. “I am, however, open to bargaining.”

  “Bargaining?”

  “Yes, I’ll cede if …”

  “If?”

  “You kiss me again.” She was doing a poor job of hiding her smile.

  He felt a smile tugging at his own mouth. Her response was novel, yet typical for Emilie, who did everything outside the norm. So unlike the women he cavorted with, who leaped at his commands in the boudoir, eager to remain in his favor. Emilie bargained. What she didn’t know was just how much power she could wield. Truth be told, she had considerable leverage to bargain with. He’d agree to just about anything to have her.

  “A kiss,” he said. “That’s all it’s going to take, is it?”

  “For now,” was her saucy response.

  Dieu, how he wanted to fuck her.

  “Very well. Agreed,” he said. “Open the front of your gown.”

  Her smile died. “Pardon … ?”

  “You didn’t say where you wanted to be kissed when we struck our bargain. And I’m going start with your lovely breasts.”

  She simply blinked and blushed, but didn’t move.

  Patience. This is monumental for her. But his cock was so full, and heavy. He’d be able to proceed slower if he wasn’t in such exquisite agony.

  Joseph reached out and grasped the yellow ribbon resting so temptingly between her tits. Moving matters along, he pulled it loose. Her eyes widened. Her hand shot out and grabbed his wrist.

  “It’s all right. You came here for this … Let me give you the pleasure you seek.” Her hand still on his wrist, he opened the fastenings on her gown, his experienced fingers making quick work of it. She looked unsure, wanting to continue as much as she wanted to stop him. But thankfully, she didn’t pull his hand away.

  She may be a virgin but she was no innocent. She was too well read on the subject of sex not to know exactly what his intentions were once the gown was opened. It kept her riveted. It stopped her from stopping him. Her breaths were quickening once more.

  When at last he reached her chemise, she tensed. Joseph paused. Rumors he’d heard about her disfigured body raced through his mind. He shoved them aside, unconcerned, and gave the final article a quick downward yank.

  No scarring or burns. Simply two perfect breasts and the prettiest pink nipples he’d ever seen.

  Her gaze was fixed on his face, observing his reaction closely.

  He took his time to take in the sight before him. With her pale blond curls sensuously mussed, the front of her gown open, and the neckline of her chemise tucked under her breasts, she was pure sexual allure.

  The goddess of temptation—who could lure men to their misfortune.

  He swore softly. “You look like every man’s fantasy.”

  Her eyes softened and her delicate shoulders relaxed.

  He caressed the outer curve of one soft mound. “I think it’s time we started experiencing some fantasies together. Wouldn’t you say?”

  She shivered. Not from fear, or cold, but from anticipation and excitement. All this pent-up passion was his for the unleashing. How fortunate was he?

  Her nipples protruded, so tempting and tantalizing, begging to be sucked. He knew she thought he was going to go straight to kissing those luscious buds. Instead Joseph pinched one excited little tip. She cried out and grabbed his biceps, startled by the keen sensation. He held the sensitive teat firmly, applying just enough pressure, letting it build into scintillating throbs.

  Her head fell back against the wall. For his efforts, she gave him a long hearty moan he felt down to the tip of his cock.

  Leaning in, he brought his mouth to her ear. “In our carnal encounters, we’ll only do what we both like.” Gently, he pulled and rolled the tender tip of her breast with expert finesse, purposely plying her with a steady stream of erotic sensations. He loved the sounds of her short sharp pants. “I know I’m enjoying this. Tell me, ma belle, how does this feel? You like this, don’t you, Emilie.” It was more of a statement than a question, given her sensual reactions.

  He straightened and looked at her, his fingers never relenting on the captive bud. She leaned heavily against the wall, her breathing labored, her eyes closed. All she could do was nod. Her skin was flushed and a pretty blond curl had fallen onto her cheek. His heart raced as he watched her in her wanton state. He had to come so badly his sac hurt. But he couldn’t stop what he was doing. Seeing the untamed desire on her face was rapture in itself.

  He’d imagined her like this more times than he could count.

  Releasing her nipple, he captured the other between his finger and thumb and pinched, giving it the same carnal treatment. She lurched and moaned louder, her fingers digging into his arms.

  “Are you ready for your kiss, Emilie?”

  “Oh God … Yes … Please …” Each word breathless.

  A sweet plea no man could resist.

  Still holding her nipple captive, Joseph cupped her other breast with his free hand and sucked the tip into his mouth. She gasped and arched, her fingers tangling in his hair.

  The taste of the pebbled nipple in his mouth spiked his hunger. He was starved for more. He wanted her complete surrender. No hesitations. No inhibitions. No will to deny him anything. Pure unbridled abandon. He licked and sucked at her breast, treating her other nipple to tender twists and tugs. The double stimulation had her writhing against the wall, tightening her fingers in his hair, the sensuous sounds she made inciting him further.

  Famished, he turned and latched on to the other breast, his hands now holding her soft mounds up high, his greedy mouth laving and lightly biting the savory teat, feeding off her frenzy. He felt light-headed with lust. His body screamed for release.

  Merde. He was actually shaking.

  He tore his mouth away, swept her up in his arms, and stalked toward the bed. He tossed her onto the mattress; she landed with a bounce and a squeak. His blood pounded in his veins. She had him so undone, all he could think about was driving his cock into her cunt.

  She rose to her elbows, her tempting nipples erect and wet from his mouth. Joseph tore his justacorps off and threw the knee-length coat to the floor. His vest followed. Reaching for the fastenings on his breeches, he opened them, yanked his shirt free, and discarded it.

  Slowly, her gaze moved down his bare chest to his engorged shaft straining out of the breeches. Her tactile perusal made him harder and bigger. He’d never been this painfully large, his cock feeling hard as stone and as heavy as lead. Gripping the base tightly, he stroked his prick, trying to ease the discomfort.

  Engrossed in his actions, she watched intently.

  “You see what you do to my cock, Emilie? Does it excite you to see me aroused for you?”

  She had a pretty blush to her cheeks. It made her blond hair look even paler and her green eyes more vibrant. “It amazes me … and thrills me and … Yes, it … arouses me.”

  God, she was as adorable as she was seductive. He doubted she knew just how soft and sultry her voice sounded.
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br />   “You want my cock inside you, don’t you?”

  She nodded. “Yes, I want it. I want it all … Every physical pleasure you can bestow. I want all of it.”

  Oh, he was going to give her all of it. She was going to take every inch of his aching shaft. He was going to ride her to what he knew was going to be an explosive release. For both of them. The carnal fire burning between them practically crackled in the air.

  “Pull up your gown and remove your drawers for me. Show me your pretty cunt.”

  “You want me to—” She faltered. The concept of revealing herself for him was clearly still an obstacle.

  “Pull up your skirts and bunch them up against your belly. Do it.” He hadn’t meant for his tone to be so sharp, but he was hanging on to his control by a thread. And it was quickly unraveling. He squeezed the swollen head of his cock to combat the throbbing.

  She looked down at her gown and bit her lush bottom lip.

  Joseph reached out and grasped her shoes. Pulling them off, he dropped them to the floor and said, “You want it all. That’s what I wish to give you. To make the experience all it can be. I want to give you all the pleasure you deserve, ma belle.” He’d told a lot of lies in the boudoir over the years, but he meant every word. “I know you were planning on being taken by a masked lover, doing no more than hiking up your skirts and having him fill you, sight unseen. You’re not limited to encounters like that. You can have a much more intimate sexual experience. Allow yourself to experience it with me.”

  There would be no barriers when she was with him. He was going to level every one of them, and the misconceptions she had about her form and appeal. Even if it killed him. And given his state, it just might.

  Her chest rose and fell with her rapid breaths. She made no other movement. And it didn’t look as though she would.

  She needs more coaxing. He’d try a different approach.

  Joseph sank one knee into the mattress and then the other. “Very well. If you’re not comfortable, we’ll do it your way. I’ll pull up your gown. I won’t look. I’ll take you through the slit in your drawers.” He grabbed the hem of her skirts, praying she’d object to the suggestion. The thought of taking her that way sank his heart.