Page 28 of Duke with a Deception
She was close. He could tell in the way her lashes lowered, the way her breathing grew shallow, the way her lips parted. She was so wonderfully wet. He longed to have a taste, but first, he wanted her to lose herself fully.
His wish was granted when she stiffened beneath their mutual onslaught, her body tensing as her pinnacle washed over her. Verity made a sound of ecstasy that he devoured with his mouth, kissing her as they both prolonged the bliss, until the last wave washed over her.
King rolled them again so that he was on his back and she was astride him. Her cheeks were flushed, her pupils wide and dilated.
Her hands settled on his chest, her countenance relaxed. He might have ended things there, kissed her softly, pulled the covers around them both, and gone back to sleep, even though his cock was aching. But he wanted more. Thoughts of all the debauching he had planned for her suddenly consumed him, a demanding demon that would only be assuaged by another orgasm from his magnificent duchess.
“Come here,” he told her, hands on her waist, urging her to move along his body.
Her brows drew together as she followed his lead until she was straddling his chest. “I don’t understand. How shall we make this work?”
“Keep coming closer, angel.” He didn’t stop, gently arranging and guiding her until her cunny was poised directly above him, her scent filling him with a fiery burst of longing. “Now, sit on my face.”
“But…how?”
“I’ll show you.” He grinned, grasping her hips and bringing her glistening pink folds to his mouth.
His first taste of her was every bit as decadent and delicious as it had been the day before. With a groan, he sucked on her clitoris and then laved her with his tongue, alternating between laps and firm licks.
“Oh,” she gasped from above. “Oh my.”
He licked into her, desperate for more. Her thighs clamped on his head, one of her hands landing on the pillow at his side for purchase and the other in his hair. She threaded her fingers through the strands, and she delighted him by riding his face as if she had done so dozens of times before.
He was so roused by having her like this that he could feel himself leaking. Apparently, last night had done nothing to quell the raging need he had for this woman. He was persuaded that, regardless of how often he made love to her, he would still long for her infinitely more.
“King,” she moaned, hips restless, cunny so wet that her juices dribbled down his chin.
What a marvel she was—and an apt pupil. He had wanted to show her the delights of the flesh slowly, over time. He had never dreamed that she would be so eager, so unabashed.
“That’s it, angel,” he crooned into her slick, sweet pussy. “Come on my face. I want to smell you on me all day like aneau de cologne.”
His wicked words seemed to have their intended effect.
In the next instant, she cried out, grinding herself against his face as her thighs went rigid around his head. He didn’t relent, tonguing and sucking her through the second crescendo, starved for her. It wasn’t enough. It never would be.
Breathing heavily, she slid down his chest, her cunny leaving a trail of slick wetness in her wake. He groaned, wishing he could lap up every last drop. Wearing her on his skin would please him just as well. The thought of going about his day whilst catching a hint of her scent at random times was deuced rousing.
“But what about you?” Verity asked softly.
“Me? I shall be fine.”
Withholding his own pleasure could be its own aphrodisiac, he had learned. There was nothing quite like a slow denial to ultimately lead to a powerful, explosive orgasm. But Verity wasn’t happy with his response.
She was frowning. “I want to please you. You made me show you how I tend to myself. Now it’s your turn to show me how you touch yourself. Assuming you do, of course. The gentlemen in the books always do. I believe they call it frigging themselves.”
“Jesus,” he bit out, astounded and intrigued all at once. “What manner of books have you been reading?”
She bit her lip, looking abashed again. “Bawdy books. In secret, of course. I’ve resorted to pilfering my brother’s private shelves. There is a serial journal that he subscribes to in secret, which is especially descriptive…”
“I think I am familiar with the journal you speak of,” he said.
It was beyond the pale, to be sure, not the sort of material an innocent society lady ought to be reading. The thought of her pilfering Riverdale’s collection and reading it in secret was positively thrilling. She couldn’t have been more perfect for King if she tried.
“Well, then.” Her cheeks turned pinker. “Do you?”
“Do I what, angel?” he asked, just to make her spell out her question.
“Do you touch yourself?”
