In Bed with the Duke

The feel of him on top of her, bare chest to bare breasts, was indeed like nothing she’d ever felt before. She couldn’t help rubbing herself up against him, to increase the wondrous pleasure of it.

He lifted himself off her, keeping her wrists clasped firmly in his hands as he kissed each breast, then her stomach, and then...

If he hadn’t been holding her hands so firmly she would have tried to grasp his head and stop him. It wasn’t easy to cast off all the morals her aunt had tried to din into her over the past dozen years. And for him to put his mouth there simply couldn’t be right.

But it felt so good. The way he kissed, then nibbled, then licked...

‘Gregory!’ she gasped. ‘Gregory, that is...’ And then her ability to breathe and speak at the same time ceased. All she could do was writhe, and pant, and moan. Those fireworks were going to go off again. She could feel them building, fizzing inside her.

Then Gregory let go of her hands, shifted slightly to one side, and pushed one finger inside her.

She screamed. And went off like a rocket. One single, immense rocket that blotted out every single star twinkling feebly in her night sky.

‘Gregory,’ she moaned, as she slowly came back together.

‘Shh...’ He was next to her now, holding her in his arms, stroking her hair, dropping kisses on her brow.

‘I don’t think,’ she panted, ‘I can keep on doing this all night.’

He chuckled. ‘A short while ago you were claiming you didn’t want me to let the fire go out—not even for an instant.’

‘I didn’t know what I was talking about,’ she complained.

To her immense relief he let go of her and sat up. Though she felt perversely disappointed when he then stood up.

Until she saw him undoing his breeches and shucking them off. She held out her arms as he came back to her, clasping them round his back as he lay fully on top of her. At which point a wave of shockingly fierce response had her pressing up against him. It was as though her hips had developed a mind of their own. And her legs, which parted in welcome.

‘There, you see,’ he said. ‘You are still smouldering. You can blaze again. And again.’

Incredibly, it was true. For the feel of him there, hard against her softness, probing insistently every time he flexed his hips against hers, was making the explosive excitement start to grow all over again.

He kissed her, stroked her, licked and nibbled at her throat, her breasts, while his hands kneaded at her bottom. And then he shifted slightly so that he could reach for himself, where he lay between her legs, and rub himself along her wetness. Then he held himself poised, where she was melting and aching for him. And pushed, just a little, so that he was stretching and penetrating her.

She arched up to him—and felt a sting from which she instinctively recoiled.

He followed her down, allowing her no quarter.

Pushed again.

This time there was a searing pain which tore her out of the sensual haze in which she’d been floating.

He stilled. Kissed her cheek when she turned it away from the fire, away from the sight of him looming over her. Kissed her neck. Stroked her damp hair back from her forehead. Then reached between them and began to gently caress the point where they merged.

Unbelievably, the slow burn started up all over again.

She turned her face to look up at him. ‘I can’t, Gregory. Please, I...’

‘You can,’ he said. ‘You only have to let go.’

Let go? What was she to let go of, precisely? He was the one pinning her to the floor. Moving inside her now. Pushing even deeper. Withdrawing. And circling his fingers over a place that seemed to be screaming for him to do it harder.

Harder?

Yes, she wanted more of him. More sensation.

The next time he pushed in she pushed up, against him, to increase the sensation.

‘That’s it,’ he murmured. And kept on murmuring words of encouragement, and praise, and approval as he kept up a gentle, rhythmic thrusting.

Until she didn’t want him to be gentle any more. Until she was gripping his buttocks and twisting her hips, clamouring to reach that place he’d already taken her to twice before.

And then she got there. Only this time it was even better because he was there with her. She could feel him pulsing deep inside her as he groaned into her ear. And it was better feeling him drift back down to earth with her, too. Feeling his heart pound against her chest. His breath coming in great, ragged gasps.

For a while they just lay there, getting their breath back, and in Prudence’s case watching the firelight sending shadows flickering across the beamed ceiling.

Until he reared up, looked down at her with a smug smile, and said, ‘There. You will have to marry me now.’