Christian Seaton: Duke of Danger (Dangerous Dukes 6)

‘Dieu, yes!’

Christian proceeded to stroke and pinch, again and again, encouraged by Lisette’s rapidly increasing breathing and the way she could not help but arch into those pleasurable caresses.

‘Oh...!’ she gasped within minutes. ‘Do not stop. Oh, please do not, Christian...!’ She pressed even harder into those caresses.

‘I have no intention of doing so.’ Christian frowned in concentration as he gauged exactly what gave her the greatest pleasure, determined to bring her to full pleasure before progressing any further.

The lightest of strokes. A caress. A gentle pinch. A squeeze, just so.

He had always been a considerate lover, he hoped, but it had never mattered quite so much to him before that the woman he was with attained the greatest pleasure from their lovemaking. He wanted Lisette to enjoy, to savour everything they did together, in the same way that he now was.

Lisette was beyond speech, beyond anything but the mindless pleasure flooding through her body, her breasts heavy and aching as Christian continued to stroke and squeeze. Between her thighs—mon Dieu, the swelling pleasurable sensation between her thighs was beyond anything she had ever experienced before.

‘Let go, Lisette,’ Christian encouraged fiercely, his face flushed, hair dishevelled.

‘I do not under— Ooooh!’ Something had burst free inside her, a huge explosion of such a myriad of pleasures, that overwhelming pulsing centred between her thighs, her core now contracting and releasing, throbbing as those waves of pleasure crashed over her again and again. ‘Christian...!’ she finally sobbed as she collapsed weakly forward against his chest.

Christian gathered Lisette into his arms, holding her close as he ran soothing hands up and down the length of her spine, allowing her to ride out the storm as she continued to softly gasp and sob in the aftershocks of her climax.

He felt such a swelling of emotions in his own chest as he continued to hold her, too many to be able to discern one from the other with any degree of certainty, but he knew he felt an increased tenderness, protectiveness towards the young woman he had just pleasured and now held in his arms. It was—

A sharp rap of knuckles sounded on one of the coach windows. ‘We are almost arrived at Sutherland House, Christian.’ Marcus’s voice was slightly muffled through the glass but the words were discernible nonetheless.

Christian barely had time to absorb those words, to register the sounds of the city outside—street vendors shouting their wares, the sounds of other carriages and horses traversing the cobbled streets, the ringing of church bells to the hour of twelve—sounds he had been totally unaware of until now, as he focused all of his attention on pleasuring Lisette.

Lisette pushed against his chest and sat up abruptly, eyes dark. Her cheeks were also flushed, her bared breasts full and the nipples red and swollen from Christian’s ministrations.

She quickly grasped the two sides of her ripped chemise to cover those breasts as she glared at him accusingly.

‘Do not,’ Christian advised wearily as she opened those delectable lips to deliver what, he had no doubt, would be another sound tongue-lashing for the liberties he had just taken with her person.

Much as it might be deserved, it was not at all the tongue-lashing he now ached for.

And so much for tasting Lisette.

For having her taste him.

Christian had not realised how close to London they were when they began their lovemaking—it seemed he barely knew what time of day it was when he was with Lisette!—and he was now left feeling even more physically frustrated and out of sorts than he had been when they began.

A discomfort he would now have to deal with himself once he reached the privacy of his bedchamber at Sutherland House.

Speaking of which...

‘You will need to dress, Lisette, if we are to arrive shortly—’

‘How would you suggest I do that when my chemise is now ruined?’ she came back agitatedly even as she moved along the seat before standing up, her crushed gown instantly falling to the carriage floor. ‘Look at me!’ She wailed her distress.

Christian was looking.

He could not seem to do anything else but look as Lisette bent over slightly beneath the roof of the carriage, her hair in complete disarray, face flushed and wearing only the tatters of her ripped chemise, her drawers and those white stockings held up by the pretty garters.

She had the appearance of a sensual woman who had been well and truly seduced.

Which she was and had.

Never in Christian’s experience had he ever known a woman to attain her physical release just from having her breasts played with.

‘Christian!’