You're to Blame(50)

Duke traces his finger along the lace edges of my bra. A wave of chills hit me, immediately followed by warmth and agony. With his hands on my waist, he backs me up until my calves hit the couch and we fall back. I pop the button of his jeans and push the fabric until they hit the floor. He lifts my skirt until his hard length brushes against my core.

“God dammit, is that all for me?” Duke whispers in my ear, rocking against my center, feeling my arousal through my thong.

This is the moment I expect to feel a rush of embarrassment, but it never rears its ugly head.

He pulls my hands above my head, and I squeal. He clasps them in one of his own. I squirm, excited to feel his hand cupping me. His palm rocks against my clit. The beautiful pain radiates from my stomach to the tips of my manicured toes.

“Holy shit.” I don’t recognize my own voice. Sultry and determined. Of its own accord, like a shock to the body, my back arches. Fuck. He pushes his hard length against me. “Don’t stop,” I blurt, jerking my hands free. I need to touch him.

Like a bull at the rodeo, my hips buck as he begins to kiss me. Duke awakens a beast inside of me, and I don’t want her to fall asleep any time soon.

“Take them off,” I demand through our connected lips, running my trembling fingertips along the edge of his boxer briefs.

“Are you sure?” He pulls back to make sure I’m not just saying these things in the heat of the moment, but truly mean them. I nod, taking in his bright smile as he watches me writhe beneath him.

Duke stretches to his jeans and pulls out his wallet. The crinkling of plastic urges me to fully undress him. My hands push at the waistband of his boxer briefs until they’re far enough down to be discarded. There’s no time to second guess or doubt my decision. He’s hard and exposed. The pain to touch him aches from my fingertips to between my legs. Boldly, I reach between us and run my hand over his silky length. He hisses, pulling my panties from my body. They slip down my thighs until they dangle from my foot, and I flick them to the floor.

He’s quick to shield himself. We need each other, and we’re eager to know what the other feels like. His tip flirts with my center, and my body responds with a shudder. He smirks, knowing what he does to me. With a welcomed ache, he enters me.

Like a song, Duke keeps a steady rhythm between our bodies. When he senses me tipping over the edge, he reaches between us and rubs one finger against my clit, and I fall over the cliff into oblivion. Gratification overcomes me, and I come undone, my entire body clenched until every muscle relaxes with my release.

“Jesus. Fuck.” Duke pushes up, slowing his pace. “Please promise to always make that face when you come.”

I lift my hips, grinning at him. There’s a satisfaction in knowing I’m driving him out of his damn mind with my body. Duke straightens his back, resting my legs on his hips, and rocks in and out of me with a hot fury until he reaches his own satisfaction. He falls, his entire weight on my small frame, but I don’t mind the pressure because it’s him. Every inch of him covers me, until we are frantically escaping into each other.

With precision, he slips from between my thighs, kissing along my jaw and down my neck. His lips pause on my collarbone, licking the skin above my breast. Through his thick eyelashes, he gazes at me with all his after-sex hotness. His head dips low, and he circles his tongue around my left nipple before moving to the other, not wanting to neglect it.

“Stay the night?” Duke whispers. His breath tickles my skin.

“I’ll be damned.” I giggle. “Did Duke Anderson just ask a girl to stay the night?”

“Not just a girl. The girl.”

Holy shit. Holy fucking shit. Holy hell fucking shit.

THE GIRL!

Did I hear him correctly? The way he spoke, it sounded a lot like... Don’t say it. Hope is easily killed. It’s best to act natural and not like my heart is racing like a damn stallion on the open plain.

I take a mental picture of Duke lifting off me, holding out his hand to help me up from the couch, and guiding me back to his bedroom.

“Do we regret this?” he whispers in my ear, sobering me from whatever brand of magic happened moments before. His breath touches my neck like a secret neither of us wants to keep.

I still at his question and turn to face him. His green eyes darken. The fact he’s willing to be vulnerable and even ask the question makes me know this wasn’t a mistake.

“I could never regret you, Duke.”

As if he knows I need a moment, he doesn’t say anything. He doesn’t try to make it more than what it is. His instinct is what I appreciate most about him. He wraps an arm around me and pulls me back into his chest. Slumber comes easy, and for the first time, I don’t have a single worry on my mind. The tension that’s held me so tight releases me.





Chapter Fourteen





Duke


My palm slaps the alarm clock radio on my bedside table. I stretch and churn until my arm grazes a warm body.

Who’s in my bed? I don’t let anyone stay the night. Ever.

Memories from last night flood in like a dam break. Charlotte.

With slow, precise movements, I look to the vixen beside me. Charlotte’s hair is wild, perfectly slept on like she’s gotten the best night’s sleep of her life. It’s fanned out over my pillow case. Damn, she looks beautiful in the morning. Like a fucking dream.