Addicted to the Duke (Imperfect Lords #1)(51)

He pressed deeper.

He was large; now that he was partway inside her he felt enormous, but the look on his face was worth every second of the discomfort she felt as he stretched her.

His eyes, dilated with passion, feasted on her as if he’d never seen a naked woman before, never had a woman open herself to him.

Slowly.

He stopped.

His breath above her was ragged.

“This is how it is with you every night. I get to initiate you to passion whenever I like. All I have to do is close my eyes and you’re mine.”

She gave him a warm smile then closed her eyes.

Gripping her hands, he raised them over her head, capturing her mouth. He tensed, then drove deep within her.

She gave one small cry as the stab of pain, sharp but mercifully brief, coursed through her body as her maidenhead ruptured.

He stilled. “Now you’re mine.” His voice was triumphant.

The pain started to fade.

He moved his hips in little circular movements. Other sensations grew and intensified.

She lifted her eyelids, heavy from pleasure, and looked up at him. He was staring at her, his expression a mask of concern and guilt.

“Don’t stop, my darling, I’m fine. I want you more than you can know.”

Something flared in the darkness; his jaw tightened and his eyes blazed.

“You really want this?” The words were low, gravelly, almost pleading. “If this was real you would not. I’m not worthy.”

“Oh yes. I’d want you. I want you deep inside me. Take me. Make me yours. I love you so.” Hestia raised her head off the bed and captured his mouth.

He kissed her ravenously.

His skilled hands found her body and ruthlessly claimed what she offered. Relentlessly possessed every curve, every inch of skin, every sensitive, intimate place.

Then he moved, sliding out and then plunging back inside her. Each thrust a branding possession. He gripped her hips, crushed her body under his, her swollen and aching breasts pressed tight against his chest, her skin searing hot.

He tilted her hips up and thrust farther, deeper. Each plunge forcing her to take all of him.

She felt an indescribable sensation as she assimilated the feel of the thick, hard reality of him buried deep inside her. Her body was hot, flushed, restlessly urgent, and recklessly greedy for all he offered. He filled her thoroughly.

His lips on hers, his tongue dueling with hers, he fed her and blatantly, forcefully, gave her back the raging tide of his fiery desire.

She gasped, trembled, and as he kept his hands locked about her hips, she caught the rhythm and started to lift her hips to meet each driving thrust. He was so deep inside her the force of his possession rocked her to the depth of her soul.

Within minutes, she was reeling. She felt herself floating, her eyes closed and her head lolled back. Her desperation heightened, she moved faster against him, feeling him as he moved matching her need, faster, harder.

—

In the moonlight with the scent of lust and passion enveloping them, her soft gasps and fractured moans falling like a siren song from her lips, he could almost believe this was real. It felt real. It felt—indescribable.

His gaze lowered to her breasts, undulating each time he thrust deep within her. Bending, he set his mouth to the swollen mounds, sought and found a tight budded peak, swirled it with his tongue, then drew it deep into his mouth. He sucked powerfully.

And she screamed with satisfaction.

Her virginal body took him deep as he thrust steadily, powerfully, again and again. Her sheath was a tight glove, scalding and slick, clamping hard about him. He fought his own growing need for release; he wanted to hear her repeatedly scream and sob with pleasure. But pleasure was mixing with pain. His wound was intruding on his dream. He tried to push it away but knew he would not last much longer.

Finally he felt her body start tightening, climbing the final peak. He moved faster, driving her ever onward. He feasted on her breasts, felt the age-old power rise through them both, felt it take them, grip them, ride them, deliver them to the heavens, a maelstrom of passion, of molten heat and raging glory.

The joy raced through him as he heard her cry echoing in his ears and she contracted powerfully about him. As she came apart beneath him in a glory so blinding he saw stars. He sank into her body, held her down ruthlessly, felt every last contraction of her sheath as he emptied himself into her.

Before he could catch his breath the dream turned. No, not tonight. Please don’t…but the vision came before he could put up the fortress in his mind to block out his nightmares.

Rising to gaze in her eyes, he looked down at the warm body lying sated beneath him, but all he saw was Tulay, her face battered and bloody. He rose up on his arms, shaking his head to clear the disturbing vision. No, no, not now, not tonight. He didn’t want this dream ruined by a nightmare.

“Tulay, oh God, Tulay.” His voice was bleak.

Tulay tensed beneath him and then reached for him. “It’s all right, Alex, I love you.”

He rolled away from her onto his back and closed his eyes tight, his breathing ragged, his mind screaming with pain.

Then mercifully darkness took him.





Chapter 14


Hestia slowly sat up, not quite comprehending what she’d heard.

Tulay?

Who the hell was Tulay?

A wave of nausea hit and she only just made it to the basin. God, she’d given herself to him and he hadn’t even known who she was. He’d been making love to a woman called Tulay.