Page 23 of Duke with a Deception
“Lovely and impatient,” he said, sounding pleased as he dotted kisses over her stomach, stopping at her navel.
When his tongue dipped inside, she jerked beneath him, shocked. Such an odd place and yet she’d had no idea how very sensitive it was. He caressed her hips and moved to her inner thighs, parting them with her help, his kisses traveling directly to her center.
He coaxed her to open for him, and she did feel lovely, every bit as worthy of worship by this beautiful man as he claimed. She didn’t even have a modicum of shame as she held still beneath his glittering gaze. Nor when he pressed a kiss to first one inner thigh and then the other.
“Lovely,” he proclaimed.
“King,” she protested, desperate, on the edge.
She needed…she didn’t know. More. She neededhim.
“Angel,” he crooned, kissing higher, his lips teasing closer to the place she wanted him most. “Do you see how lovely you are now? How perfect?”
She couldn’t form a response, but it seemed he didn’t require one anyway.
“So lovely,” he breathed and then buried his face between her legs.
She jerked, a sound of surprise fleeing her. She’d read about such an act before, and yet nothing could have prepared her for King’s lips on that most intimate place. He kissed her there as he had her lips, longingly, expertly, until she was writhing, seeking more. The demanding nub that she had dared to touch in the darkest night when she was alone throbbed, desperate for attention.
But he understood.
The flutter of his tongue sent fireworks through her. The delight was so acute. It was unlike anything she had experienced. No description in a book could compare. He pleasured her slowly, using his lips and tongue, sucking and licking and nipping until she writhed beneath him. Just when she thought she could bear no more of his sensual torture, King hooked her legs over his shoulders and slid his hands beneath her bottom. The angle brought a new wave of pleasure washing over her, and suddenly, everything within Verity seized. She arched her back, gasping out his name, the bliss almost too much to bear.
She had scarcely recovered when she felt him at her center, one long finger sinking slowly into her. She stiffened, uncertain. Everything felt new, her pleasure so intense that it verged on pain. She felt as if she might burst if he continued, and yet she also felt as if she would die if he didn’t.
Her wetness aided the intrusion, and she wriggled, liking the way it felt, to have this part of him inside her. He slippeddeeper, his finger crooked, as he groaned against her, sucking and licking.
“Come again for me, sweetness,” he urged. “You’re so tight and wet, so ready for me.”
She didn’t know if that was good or bad, but it sounded like praise, and she was beyond the ability to feel self-conscious. She was a devotee of pleasure, his to do with as he wished. And as he rubbed a place that was even more sensitive, his tongue fluttering over her nub in practiced swirls, she gave him what he wanted. A paroxysm seized her, so strong the breath froze in her lungs and blackness edged her vision. A ragged sound fled Verity, a desperate sound.
Her heart was pounding, her ears ringing, when he lifted his head to at last give her respite from the overwhelming pleasure. She didn’t know if she would survive. It was as if she had melted into the bed. Moving seemed impossible. As did thought.
His mouth glistened, his dark eyes burning into hers. “You see? You are lovely, Verity, and I haven’t any choice but to make you mine.”
There was something almost mournful about his words, as if he regretted what was about to happen. But that was silly, wasn’t it? He loved her. He had asked her to marry him. They were meant to be together.
“I’ll make it good for you,” he said, his finger still moving in and out of her with languorous passes. “I’ll make it so good.”
Verity sifted her fingers tenderly through his mussed hair, loving him even more. “I know you will.”
Her reassurance seemed to be what he wanted, for he withdrew, leaving her aching and yearning. As she watched, he reached for the button on the waistband of his smalls, plucking it open. He shoved the garment down his hips, and his member sprang free, thick and proud and ruddy.
She stared with open fascination, thinking it far larger than she had imagined. His finger had stretched her, almost uncomfortably, and it was smaller than the part he would insert into her next.
Once again, he seemed to read her thoughts.
“Don’t think too much, angel,” he said softly. “I promise I’ll be gentle.”
His words chased the worry. She trusted King implicitly. He was her other half. He would never hurt her. Whatever was to come, he would take care with her. He had already shown her, time and again, that he would. He had already saved her life.
He moved over her, and she welcomed him, taking him into her arms, savoring the connection between their bodies, his bare skin on hers, his hardness melding with her softness. He kissed her everywhere, his fingers slipping between them to strum over her as if she were an instrument only he knew how to play.
By the time his lips were once again on hers, she was ready, any lingering concerns obliterated by the way he set her aflame all over again. He kissed her deeply, and she felt him notch himself against her. Felt a new kind of pressure as the thick head of him breached her for the first time. She stiffened, a stab of unexpected discomfort stealing her breath for a moment.
“Breathe with me, angel,” he urged against her lips. “Concentrate on the pleasure and relax.”
As he said the words, he flicked over her bud, and the sensation that careened through Verity had her gasping. Desire returned, and she felt the tension draining from her. This was what she wanted. What she had been waiting what seemed a lifetime for, she reminded herself.
