What a Duke Dares (Sons of Sin 3)

That smile still flirted with her lips. “I’m not exactly an innocent girl.”

“Not far off.”

Her eyelashes fluttered down. “The gossips were right about one thing. Conversations in Rome’s salons were more risqué than at Almack’s.”

Still straddling him, she slid upward until her sex brushed his aching cock. He bit back an agonized groan. Heat seared every thought from his brain but one. He must have her. He must have her now.

Through the ferment in his head, he heard her speak. He was in such a state, it took a few seconds to translate the sounds.

“I thought you’d like it.”

He dragged his mind back from his need to plunge inside her. “I did.” He paused in case she misunderstood. “I do.”

“I’m working purely on hearsay.”

She looked so serious that even half-demented with desire, Cam couldn’t contain a laugh. “My sweet wife, whatever you do will please me.”

Triumph lit her face. “I’m glad to hear it, Your Grace.”

Tonight sarcasm had edged her use of the formal address. Each time, the bite in her mellow contralto set his desire spiking.

“I’m so mad for you, this house could burn down around my ears and I’d still choose to stay in this bed.”

When she kissed him, she tasted of woman and desire and everything he wanted. He devoured her mouth, plunging his tongue deep. “Let me have you,” he whispered against her lips.

“Not yet.”

In an excess of frustration, he dug his hand into her mane of hair and held her still. “You really do want to kill me.”

Her eyes glittered with excitement. “Perhaps.”

With a blatant eroticism that set his heart galloping, she pressed down. She was so close. He tilted his hips, but before he could slide inside her, she retreated.

“I should finish what I started.”

He couldn’t trust himself not to spill into her mouth. “Have mercy. You test my control.”

Her eyes flared with unholy interest. “I don’t mind.”

Pen shifted to take him inside her luscious mouth. His vision dissolved into a long dark tunnel. Her name emerged as an incoherent protest.

She licked the sensitive head and any impulse to stop her went south, along with every drop of blood in his body. Then—dear God—subtle suction.

She increased the pressure, squeezing her fingers around the base. Despite her clumsiness, this level of pleasure ranged beyond his experience.

The act blazed through him like fire through dry tinder. She moaned with enjoyment. Another jolt of excitement. Another thread ripped from his frayed control. He strained against losing himself.

“Pen, stop.” His voice emerged as a raw husk. “Enough.”

Tauntingly slowly, she rose, lingering at the tip. His neck muscles were so tight, he feared his head must break off. He closed his eyes. Speaking was painful. “Let me take over. You’ve made your point.”

Whatever that point had been. He’d forgotten it the minute she’d used her mouth. Her hand still curled around him, warm and firm. She needed to let go or she’d get a nasty surprise.

Warm silk tumbled over his belly and she took him again.

Heat. Pressure. Pleasure.

Demand. Resistance.