Addicted to the Duke (Imperfect Lords #1)(50)


He knew it must be the laudanum she gave him making his dreams come alive. He shouldn’t let her give him any now that the pain was barely a nuisance, but he was too weak to resist, for his dreams of her made his soul soar.

During the day, he refused to take it, but at night he craved the drug. He craved the sensuous delusions of her. He knew she’d given him some to sleep.

He sighed.

Dreamland was the only world in which she could ever be his. He could tell her how much he wanted her, desired her, craved her, and he could pretend he was good enough for her, act as if the darkness driving his revenge couldn’t hurt her.

A shiver shook him, a primitive recognition that in his dreams, he could have whatever he wished of her, that she wouldn’t, no couldn’t, resist. In his dreams she would belong to him and only him, always.

She rose up over him—naked. Her pale curves, iridescent in the sliver of moonlight flooding the cabin. Her hands knowingly caressed every inch of his body; her lips kissed, sucked, and licked him all over. This was not the mouth of an innocent. This was his dream tigress, on the hunt and set on capturing and devouring him.

He was desperate to be caught.

Like a sleek cat she hung naked above him, balanced on all fours. Her luscious breasts swung free, teasing his chest. Her tongue bent and licked his nipple, branding him with its heat. His body burned to possess her, but as he tried to rise she swatted him back down. His tigress was in control.

Hestia continued to stroke him, her hand as soft as velvet against his rough skin. As she lightly traced his hard rod beneath her palm, it responded to her attention, growing considerably harder in response to her touch.

As if wanting to learn every inch of his body, her hands continued to fondle and caress him. The exploration was a slow, pleasurable torture. He couldn’t deny her, she wanted to—no, demanded to experience, and obviously sought to savor every inch of him.

Her eyes holding his, she closed her small hand around his throbbing cock.

Her touch—the feel of her delicate, intensely feminine hand gripping him avidly, greedily—almost made him lose control.

Alex groaned and gripped her head and pulled her lips to his. He refused to let her pull back as her hand moved firmly up and down his engorged shaft. In his dream he realized his body wasn’t his own, but hers—hers to command to caress as she wished, to pleasure as she wished…

Desperate, he pulled back from the kiss and, ignoring the pain in his side, rolled her beneath him. He shuddered as her breasts brushed against his chest, the hard pebbled peaks evidence of her arousal, his hands instinctively flexing, fingers biting into her arms.

“You’re mine. Tonight I’ll make you mine.”

“Yes, oh yes.”

She surrendered her control and reached for him, and he came to her, using his weight to pin her to the bed, demanding her lips, ravaging her mouth even as his hands swept down to caress her intimately between her legs. His touch became ever more urgent, pressing further into her slick folds; his body thrilled as his hand became soaked in her juices. In his dreams she always wanted him. His hand pressed further, then, slowly, deliberately he pushed one finger into her. Deep, then deeper still.

His mouth swallowed her gasp.

He refused to let her pull back from his kiss as he withdrew his finger, then thrust it into her again. And again, and again.

Soon one finger became two.

She lifted her hips slightly to his fingers’ rhythm, each slick stroke increasing the intimate penetration.

Her head lolled back from his.

“Keep kissing me, all the way. I want to be in your mouth when you come apart.”

Her lashes rose at his words, and she met his eyes. Their gazes locked for an instant, their breaths mingling, her soft panting sighs raising his ardor further. Her lips rose to meet his as he reached deep between her thighs.

His tongue invaded her mouth, penetrating in time to his fingers; he felt the hot tide of his kiss, of his claiming, rising within her until with a sob he felt her shatter in his arms, her internal muscles clamping around his fingers and her body shuddered against his, only to slump satiated on the bed.

Alex’s nerves coiled tight. Shaking, he gently parted her thighs with his knee, and slowly began to guide the blunt head of his erection to her swollen and slick entrance, easing it between her nether lips and slowly entering her.

The blood pounded in his veins, an insistent beat driving him to action. He needed to be inside her more than he needed to breathe, but he had to go slow. He needed this to last all night. He stifled a groan and forced himself to slow down.

He shot her a glance; her eyes were wide and lustrous with reawakening desire. Gritting his teeth, he held back and bent to claim her mouth once more.



This kiss was slow and erotic and extremely thorough; parting her lips, his tongue slid into her mouth while she felt him enter her, inch by incredible inch. He was thick and hard, his tongue and member creating an intense yearning inside her that only added to her light-headedness. She still hadn’t come back to earth from her previous shattering release.

This is what she’d wanted—a joining that scorched her soul. She fought her conscience; it lost easily against the powerful urges of her body. She wanted him. Now. Like this. Damn the consequences. Her only regret was that because of the laudanum, he’d unlikely remember their pleasurable night in the morning.

Alex was a magnificent lover. His body was powerful, steely, yet she knew he was holding back because of his injury. She made sure her knee kept well away from his injured side.

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