Duke of Desire (Maiden Lane #12)(52)

His hips jerked and then stilled as if the movement had been involuntary.

She glanced up and saw that he’d thrown an arm over his eyes.

“Dear God,” he muttered. “You’re going to kill me.”

Which made her giggle.

He looked at her under his arm and groaned, letting his head fall back to the pillow. “Can you …?”

“Hmm?” she hummed a question around the head of his cock. If she was very careful with her teeth she could suckle him.

“Oh God,” he moaned. “Just … rub up and down with your hands. Please. God, please. And keep sucking.”

He sounded as if he were in duress, and it made her press her thighs together.

She did as he asked, using both hands to squeeze and pull his shaft, all the while tonguing and sucking at the head.

His hips began to move, thrusting gently, shoving his cock in and out of her mouth.

She glanced up and saw his head tilted back, the tendons of his neck drawn taut, and suddenly his hand was in her hair, pulling, trying to make her move away.

But she didn’t want to. She had such power now and she was drunk on his taste and scent. She sucked strongly, moving her hands up and down that gorgeous shaft, feeling as he thrust his cock against her tongue.

He groaned as if he were in pain and his hips shuddered.

And she tasted hot, bitter liquid in her mouth.

Semen. His semen.

She swallowed without thinking and then winced, but since it was done she decided not to worry about it. Instead she gently touched his cock. It was reddened and still rather hard.

“Come here.” His voice was brimstone and gravel.

She glanced up and saw him watching her, his eyes half-lidded, and something in her gave a leap. It wasn’t sensual. It was sort of a thrill of affection for him.

Or possibly more.

She rose and went to the table, trying to be sophisticated and not care that she was nude. There she took a long drink of the not-very-good wine, refreshing the taste in her mouth.

She turned, the glass still at her lips, and his eyes were on her, nearly glowing. He held out his hand.

She swallowed and went to him, climbing into the bed and lying down next to him. Hesitantly she laid her cheek on his shoulder—his good shoulder.

But then his fingers were under her chin, tilting her lips up to meet his.

He kissed her openmouthed as if he would devour her.

“Straddle me,” he whispered against her lips, and sat up against the headboard.

He pulled her into his lap and trailed kisses down her throat, making her nipples peak with the sensation.

One hand came up and cupped her breast and then he was drawing her nipple into his mouth, sucking strongly.

Oh. Oh, that was lovely.

Her head lolled against her shoulders as he moved to the neglected nipple and suckled it as well.

Both of his wide hands were on her hips now, squeezing gently. Then he lifted her and repositioned her with one leg between his.

With his knee cocked up between her thighs as she straddled him.

He guided her down so that she was pressed against him, his knee right in her softness, her lips spread on him.

Her eyes widened.

“Rock,” he said, watching her.

She grasped his thigh and slowly rubbed against him, her breasts trembling.

“Do you like it?” he asked, looking quite sinister.

“Yes.” She licked her lips. “Yes, I do.”

“You look like you like it,” he murmured low. “Your cheeks are rose pink and your lips are red and swollen.” He stared down to where she was wantonly rocking against him. “And you’re wet. I can feel your slickness on my skin. Are you close?”

She shook her head. “I … I don’t know.”

“Have you ever pleasured yourself?” he asked.

And she opened her eyes wide in shock. She never … To discuss aloud such things!

His eyes were knowing, as if he’d seen her, lying in her virginal bed long ago, fingering herself.

“Show me,” he growled. “Show me what you do.”

She swallowed and trailed her right hand down, burrowing her middle finger into where she was hot and wet.

Oh! She couldn’t catch her breath. Doing this in front of him as he eyed her dispassionately. As he ordered her to display herself for him. She was on the point, so close, so close, her finger working faster and faster as her scent rose in the air between them.

Her mouth opened wide and her hips stuttered against him, sweet heat flowing through her, infusing her limbs, making her light-headed.

He caught her and drew her against him, pressing kisses into her mouth as he murmured, “So beautiful. So beautiful.”

He sat up to pull the covers over them both and then he took her into his arms as he lay back down.

The fire crackled and the few candles still lit guttered and she thought, as her mind began to drift, that perhaps her feeling for her strange, dark husband might be more than just affection.





Chapter Eleven




The Rock King retreated into his tower, and when he came out again, he wore a strange sort of armor. It was entirely black and seemed to be made from a sort of thin rock. The armor lay on his body like jagged slabs, reflecting no light, and clinked like dry bones as he moved.

“You may stay in my tower while I am gone,” he said to Ann, and then turned to the north.…