Page 15 of Kidnapping the Duchess
CHAPTER EIGHT
Izak
Fuck me, Izak.
The three words I’ve been waiting to hear from Daria Copeland’s lips for three long years. Okay, there’s three other words I want to hear her say, too, but hopefully that comes later.
Flipping us, I lay on my back and position her astride my hips. “Grab hold of my cock, baby. You have all the control now—pace, angles, how deep, everything. Do whatever feels good.”
I almost expect her bratty side to make a snarky comment about how careful I’m treating her. But I realize this isn’t that kind of moment. Regardless of her experience or lack thereof, this is a long-awaited first for both of us. It’s the first time I’ll be inside the woman I secretly love. And it’s not only the first time she’s had sex with a man, but the first time she’s having it with a man who’s meant to be hers, even if she doesn’t know it yet.
Daria lifts her hips and wraps her slender fingers around my steel-hard cock. I hiss in a breath at the confident way she squeezes me and swipes her thumb over my crown, smearing the drop of pre-cum down to the sensitive spot under the ridge. Her eyes dance with power as she guides me between her thighs. We both moan when my fat crown notches into place at her slick entrance, and it takes all my considerable restraint not to thrust home.
Thank Christ she’s as eager as I am and doesn’t waste any time sinking onto my shaft. We both watch her pussy swallow me whole, inch by excruciating inch, until she’s fully seated and there’s not a breath of air between our bodies.
“Color,” I force out through gritted teeth.
“Green,” she pants. “Very, very green.”
“Then use my cock like it’s one of your toys. But don’t you dare come until I say.”
It’s then the brat in her appears with a smirk and a challenge. “We’ll see about that, bodyguard.” But the sass disappears with a bite of her lip and knitted brow once she starts riding my dick. And I do mean ride. I thank the universe for Daria’s affinity for sex toys because I have to assume this is not typical of any first-timer. With her hands braced on my chest, she experiments with different angles until she finds the one that makes her swear a blue streak.
“Oh, fu-uck. Your cock. So. Fuck-ing good.”
Her broken English is courtesy of her ass dropping onto my thighs in a steady rhythm. The familiar flames lick at my spine as they burn a path south. I’m not going to last much longer, and after all the build-up over the past few hours—hell, the past few years—I don’t want to drag this out anymore, either. I roll us again, putting me back in the power position. Daria smiles up at me, wraps her legs around my waist, and hooks her ankles.
“Color, Duchess.”
“Izak!”
I’m moving before she even finishes my name. I pound into her again and again, the tight fist of her cunt like a vise grip around my cock. Her nails carve rows on my back that spur me on harder faster, faster deeper. The slapping of wet flesh combines with her moans and mumbled prayers, and when she starts chanting ohGodohGod and the walls of her pussy start pulsing, I know she’s close.
Slipping a hand between our sweat-slick bodies, I rub her clit and growl my command. “Come for me, Duchess. Come on my fat cock until I’m fucking drenched in you.”
Daria throws her head back, screaming in rapture as the release consumes her. I follow, my orgasm decimates me, burning fast and hot like a brush fire in a stiff wind. Roaring against her neck, I explode and imagine marking her with the lashes of come I empty deep inside her. In time, my thrusts become lazy and languid with the ebbing pulses from her pussy. And the way her body quivers and breath catches every time an aftershock hits her is the sexiest thing I’ve seen.
I kiss her slowly and deeply, drinking her in and reveling in her taste. Impossible as it seemed, she’s imprinted herself on my soul. Daria is the piece I’ve been missing, and now that I have her, I feel complete.
I have just barely enough energy to fall to the side and draw her into my arms. She sighs contentedly and nuzzles my neck with her nose in an adorable way that I hope becomes a habit.
We stay like that for a long time—her lazily drawing patterns on my chest with her nail as I trail my fingertips up and down the graceful dip of her spine.
“So, kidnapper, what happens now?”
I don’t like the distance she’s injected into her tone, like she’s dragging her armor back on before I even get the chance to tell her she doesn’t need it.
Lifting up to brace myself with an elbow, my breath stutters when I look down at her. Black hair wild and tangled against the white pillowcase, her lips bee-stung from my kiss, and cheeks flagged with a healthy pink glow. She truly is the most exquisite woman I’ve ever known. Regal yet wild, hard but soft, fierce and loving.
“Well, for starters,” I say, “I intend for you to fall madly in love with me—no matter how many orgasms it takes—then, after that, we can discuss marriage and kids.”
She gazes up at me with a smile that stretches from ear to ear. “Kids?”
I give her a fake stern look. “Marriage first, your grace. My family’s very traditional, I’m afraid.”
Averting her gaze, a sad smile appears on her face. “I wish it were that simple.”
“It can be, Duchess, I promise. But we’re not going to worry about that now.” Lowering my head, I trail kisses up her neck. “For the next forty-eight hours, the only thing you’re allowed to think about is which of your novels I’ll pull a scene from next to make you come so hard you can’t move from this spot.”
“Mmm,” she says, biting her lower lip. “Well, I am properly kidnapped, so if that is to be my fate, I suppose I must accept it.”
“My thoughts exactly, your grace. Now, how well do you remember chapter sixteen of Scandalously Submissive?”
Her mouth opens slightly on a tiny gasp of surprise. I can almost see her replaying the scene in her mind as her mesmerizing blue eyes turn a deep navy and she traps the corner of her lip with her teeth.
“Excellent,” I say, staring down at her with a wicked grin. “Let’s get started, shall we?”
