One Dance with a Duke (Stud Club #1)(66)

“Bloody hell.” When he spoke again, his voice shook. “You’re so tight.”

“Is that bad?” She moaned as he worked his finger in and out, dragging against exquisitely tender flesh.

“It’s unfair. This is going to be damn amazing for me, and damn uncomfortable for you, at best.” He increased the pace of his circular caresses, and her hips jerked with a fierce jolt of pleasure. “Can you come for me? If you come first, it will go easier.”

What a request. Just like him, to be so straightforward. Could she? Amelia wasn’t sure. She most definitely wanted to. His touch incited unbearable sensation in her, and he drove her closer to the edge with every tiny caress. But there was trusting him, and then there was trusting him. She’d never come for anyone other than herself. It was as though she hovered on the brink of pleasure, but a thin cord of inhibition held her back.

And then his words began to unravel it.

“I want to see you come. I’ve been dreaming of it, did you know?”

No. No, she hadn’t known. She could never have guessed, in a thousand years, that he would be dreaming of that.

“Both asleep and awake, I’ve been dreaming of it. What your face will look like. How tight your ni**les will get. Exactly what shade of pink you’ll turn, and in precisely which places.”

Rocked by a fresh surge of pleasure, she let her head roll back and threw her wrist over her eyes.

He pulled her arm away, while with the other hand he stroked her in a brisk, firm rhythm. “Oh, no. Don’t you hide from me. I’m selfish, and I want to see. Right now I ought to sink between your thighs and bring you there with my tongue, but I won’t, because I have to see you when you come for me.”

She could barely comprehend the carnal picture his words painted, but her body responded to it with enthusiasm. She was so aroused, her body made wet, erotic noises as he plunged his finger into her again and again.

He had her so close, so close. She whimpered, desperate for release.

“Tell me,” he said. “Tell me what you need.”

Were there words for it? She couldn’t find them. He’d decimated her vocabulary.

“Softly,” she managed. “Softly.”

He eased the pressure off his thumb, jiggling it lightly over her swollen bud. “Yes?”

“Yes.” She panted and bucked, biting her lip and grasping handfuls of the bed linens.

Yes yes yes … Yes.

The last strand of her resistance snapped. She came so fiercely, the climax jolted her hips from the bed. He slid a second finger inside her, doubling the intensity of her peak. The pleasure went on and on, in wave after wave. The last tremors were still rippling through her as he withdrew his hand and positioned himself between her legs.

“I must have you,” he muttered, forcing her thighs wide and thrusting into her quivering core. “Now.”

She gasped at the fresh spear of pain mingling with the ebbing wave of pleasure.

He swore, rooting deeper. “Can’t stop.” Thrust. “Too good.”

With short digs of his hips, he pushed further and further into her. Her tender flesh ached and stretched. Just when she thought she couldn’t possibly take any more of him, he grasped her backside in both hands, angled her hips, and sank deeper still. Her neck arched as she struggled for breath. She was so full of him, she felt him everywhere.

At last fully seated, he rested atop her for a moment, panting against the curve of her neck. The joining hurt, but it also felt indescribably right. She was a woman. She was made for this. She loved the fact that she could take him inside her and hold him there, so tightly, that there was nowhere else on earth he’d rather be.

“You put me through hell for this,” he said, punishing her with a sharp nudge against her womb. “And I want you to know, it was worth every moment.”

She laughed, and the brief spasm made the pain even worse. But better, at the same time.

Kissing her quiet, he began to thrust again. Gently now. Her body had adjusted to his, and he moved easily, gliding in and out with smooth, powerful strokes. Within seconds, the act ceased hurting so much and began to feel warm, and quite pleasant indeed. She relaxed her thighs, spreading her legs to take him deeper. Reveling in the weight of his body atop hers, the firmness of his muscled shoulders and arms, the sleekness of his back. As his tempo increased, she ran her hands possessively over the hard angles and planes, even daring to cup the taut, flexing muscles of his bu**ocks.

He made a gruff sound, and she sensed a shift in him. Consideration was banished; raw need took its place. He rose up on his knees, lifting her hips from the bed in his strong, sculpted hands. The tendons in his neck stood out like ropes. Her br**sts jounced wildly as he pistoned his hips, taking her hard and fast in ruthless pursuit of his own pleasure.

Now she understood why he’d insisted on watching her peak. Even with his eyes closed, even through the shadows of night … the look on his face told her he’d rather die than withdraw from her body right now. This was it. This was the very best part. Feeling so desired, so needed. More essential to him than air.

He made a rough noise, something between a growl and a moan. And then he collapsed atop her, shuddering and helpless in the throes of his release. She wrapped her arms around his shoulders, smoothing the damp hair from his brow. He made a pillow of her br**sts and sighed her name against her skin.