What a Duke Dares (Sons of Sin 3)

Tonight he treated her like the virgin she was no longer. As he stroked her body, pleasure flowed through her like warm honey. She knew this tremulous anticipation led to humiliation, but something stupid and stubborn inside her refused to believe that.

At her sides, her hands closed and released. Her toes curled in his mother’s satin slippers. Her breasts swelled. She’d been jumpy when he’d followed her upstairs, but as he touched her softly and asked no more, she drifted into a glorious dream. On a sigh, she shut her eyes and leaned back against him.

“Ouch!”

Cam’s bite on her shoulder zapped through her like lightning across a summer sky. She stumbled upright.

“Don’t go to sleep.” He nipped at her earlobe. This time when she swayed, he pressed against her back. She stiffened and a whimper escaped. His insistent weight reminded her where this delight headed.

“Shh, Pen,” he whispered.

He treated her like a restive horse. But rebellion sank under a wave of response as he caressed her breasts. His hands abraded her nipples through her shift until she squirmed.

“I love your breasts,” he murmured, rolling the peaks between his fingers. “I love how your nipples harden with desire. I love their taste. I love how you shake when I touch them.”

“Cam—” she choked, not sure whether it was a plea or a protest.

A whisper of fabric as he slipped her shift off. His exhalation expressed delighted surprise. “You’re not wearing drawers.”

Standing half-naked in a man’s arms and squeezing one’s buttocks against his rod should extinguish blushes, but still her face went bright red. “Your mother didn’t own any.”

His laugh cracked, proof of burgeoning hunger. “I wish I’d known at dinner.”

“I’m not trying to titillate you,” she choked out.

“Nevertheless, I’m titillated.” His hips bumped her.

She gasped. She should run shrieking, but pleasure had vanquished fear. His hands traced her sinfully bare stomach and thighs. Her fingers dug into his thighs, crushing his trousers. She thought she’d understood the imperatives of attraction. Tonight’s siege demonstrated that she was a mere novice.

“I won’t stop you now,” she confessed huskily. She waited in suspense for him to push her down onto the bed and thrust inside her.

“There’s no hurry.” He scraped his teeth across a nerve on her neck until she saw stars instead of the duchess’s old-fashioned apartments.

“What do you want?” she asked, bewildered. Holding a conversation while he set fire to her senses tested her.

“You have to desire me.”

“I desire you.” After last night, she’d never thought she’d say that.

“Not enough.”

“Any more and I’ll explode.”

“If you explode, I’ll put you together and begin again.”

“You make me suffer.”

“I’m not taking chances,” he said with a hint of grimness.

With sudden ruthlessness, he cupped her mound. He made a deep sound of masculine gratification and lashed an arm across her middle, holding her hard. His fingers slid between her legs and he brushed a sensitive spot. She shuddered under a flood of reaction.

For what felt like hours, arousal had tangled inside her. Now her response focused. Moaning, she quivered, wanting more delicious pressure.

To her frustration, he withdrew. Behind her, his chest heaved.

“Cam!” she protested. She was slick and ready.

For a breathless moment, he pressed her to him. His breath gusted harsh against her ear.