Page 47 of Disciplined by the Duke
“Proper no longer has a place in my life,” she said, tilting her chin up to look him in the eyes. She ran her hands up under his cravat, her fingers tangling with the knot. “It’s pleasure I seek.” The kind of pleasure that let her forget. And forgetting, even if for but a few stolen moments, had become something precious.
He waited until she’d untied the silk at his throat, waited until she’d slid one end of the cravat around his neck. The silk whispered against the finely knit wool of his coat. Watching the tail end of the white silk trail over his shoulder, she didn’t see his hands moving until hers were firmly manacled within his grasp.
Transferring her wrists so he held both of them in one of his large hands, he spun her around and pulled her back against him. His breath was hot on the back of her neck. “Pleasure is the one thing I can give you.” He wound the length of silk around her wrists, tied the ends together so her hands were bound together in front of her.
He stepped back, keeping her tight to him. He leaned against a boulder that jutted out from the hillside. “Is this what you came for, Miss Smith? To put yourself in my hands? To cede responsibility of your actions while I take what I want, what we both want?”
“Yes.” Liz heard the surprise in her voice, and her cheeks flooded with heat. She didn’t want to be responsible anymore, not for her sister’s life, not for her own actions. She was tired and constantly sick with worry.
She was letting her sister down. And the shame of that, of her desire to forget her responsibilities, curdled her stomach. She almost stepped away from him. Almost withdrew back to her life of constant fear and heavy duties. But his hands were on the move, sculpting her body as though trying to memorize her curves with his fingers.
His palms skimmed over her breasts, not nearly enough pressure to bring her relief. Montague rested them on her shoulders a moment, before sweeping down her arms and grabbing her bound wrists. Dragging them up, he laced her wrists behind his neck, exposing her torso fully to his exploring hands.
Liz sank into his body. Leaning her head back on his shoulder, she allowed him free rein. A sigh escaped her lips as he cupped her breasts, rubbed his thumbs over the tips. Her nipples hardened to stiff peaks. Her breasts became heavy, achy. She moaned a protest when he lowered his hands to slide along her belly.
“Shh.” His mouth was at her ear, his voice low. “You might be able to come just from breast play, but we don’t have the time to experiment.” His fingers scratched at the tops of her thighs, and it took her a moment to realize he was gathering her skirts, exposing her drawers to the world.
She glanced around. The path was still secluded. The rustle of the breeze through the trees the only sound she heard. Marcus untied the little knot and pushed his fingers under the waistband of her drawers. The tips of his fingers grazed the slick skin at the junction of her thighs. She started, the sensation of someone’s touch on her intimate flesh still too new.
One thick finger slid between her folds, and her breath caught in her throat.
“So soft,” he murmured. “Like the dogwood blossom.”
“I’m wet.” She wondered if that was something she should be embarrassed about, but the duke didn’t seem to mind. And embarrassment would only diminish her pleasure, so she shoved it aside.
“And getting wetter,” he agreed. “Your body is softening for me. Preparing for an intrusion. Releasing its sweet essence to maximize both of our enjoyment.”
He dipped his finger into her body, swirled the tip around her opening.
Her brain fogged, making it hard to concentrate. “The moisture makes it easier . . .”
“For my cock to slide deep into that sweet pussy.” He pressed his thumb on the little nub above her opening. “The human body is an amazing creation. Designed to give and receive bliss. This right here”—she sucked in a breath as he pressed harder with his thumb—“your lovely little clit, is a focal point for your desire. When you’re alone in your bed, thinking naughty things that no maid should think, you can stroke right here until your crisis overtakes you.”
Her hips arched into his touch. The tension in her body wound tighter and tighter until that magical moment he spoke of was right over the horizon.
He pulled his hands from her drawers, and she let out a cry of dismay.
Holding a finger up to her lips, he said, “Shh.” His breath tickled her ear. He pressed that finger into her mouth, slid it over her tongue. “Can you taste that? That’s the flavor of you wanting me.” He nipped at her earlobe when she sucked his finger more fully into her mouth. His chest heaved beneath her back.
“You can’t be greedy.” His voice was as rough as sandpaper. He tugged his finger free. “When it comes to two people pleasuring each other, you have to learn to share, and share alike.”
Liz bit down on the inside of her cheek as he stepped out from under her arms. She’d be only too happy to reciprocate, except she didn’t quite know how to touch a man in that way. And her hands were tied. And he’d left her with an ache that demanded satisfaction first.
She opened her mouth to tell him all this, to ask, politely, that he finish what he started, when he pushed her back against the rock and knelt at her feet. The sight of the duke on his knees before her struck her mute. The look he sent her as he worked her drawers down her legs and over her boots was so scorching she was surprised she didn’t burst into flames.
He rocked back onto his feet. “If you insist on hunting me down to seduce me perhaps you should do so without your underthings in future. I do believe Mr. Todd has lectured you on economy of movement.”
Rolling her skirts up, he held them pinned at her waist with one hand while he looked his fill. A cool breeze raked against her heated skin, and deep inside she throbbed.
“Yes.” She drew in a ragged breath. “He wants us maids to be most efficient.” He slid his thumb between her folds, separated them. “We do work for a duke, after all. Highest standards and all that.”
A corner of his mouth quirked up. “A very demanding duke, by all accounts.” His thumb pressed into her. “One who will take everything you have to give.”
Streaks of gold glinted in his hair as he brought his head closer to her. She couldn’t figure out what he intended to do, unless—
“Oh dear God!” Her voice startled a bird from its perch, but she couldn’t care how loud she was. Because his mouth was on her, kissing, sucking, biting. She didn’t think she could take it, so she moved her bound hands to his head and tried to push him away.
Batting her arms away, he reached around and grabbed her bottom with one hand, pressing her more deeply into his kiss. Her legs shook, and a strangled gasp was ripped from her chest.