Page 73
Story: His Scottish Duchess
He broke the kiss, his breath coming in short, ragged gasps.
“Never again,” he groaned against her jaw. “Never again will I suppress the urge to have you for the sake of a wager I have made with myself.”
He kissed her again, deep and slow, his tongue mapping out her mouth, following every trace of the tea she drank earlier.
Reluctantly, he pulled away again, grunting in annoyance. “Not when you taste so good.”
His gaze dropped to her neck, and he began to trail kisses down the elegant curve, the warmth of his mouth sending shivers of delight through her.
Catherine could feel the itch that had lingered beneath her skin for days easing, but still, it was not enough. It was nowhere near enough.
She needed more. Needed more kisses, needed his touch to obliterate every thought in her head.
He nuzzled her ear, his voice a low growl. “You seem rather eager tonight, Catherine. I quite like seeing you like this.”
His fingers tugged down the straps of her nightgown until her perk breasts spilled out. He pressed a kiss to her chin, then the line of her jaw, before moving lower, finding the delicate curve of her collarbone, then lower still, his breath hot against her skin.
Catherine’s fingers tightened in his hair, her body arching slightly into him, still so desperately hungry for more.
“So eager, so desperate. So breathtakingly beautiful as you yearn for me.”
He shifted, kneeling before her on the bed, his gaze intent as he began to lift the hem of her gown. Her breath caught in her throat, a mixture of anticipation and nervous excitement fluttering within her.
He pressed a kiss to the inside of her thigh, the unexpected gentleness sending a wave of heat through her. He moved higher, his lips and tongue tracing a slow, deliberate path, igniting a fire within her that threatened to consume her.
Catherine gasped, her hands tightening in his hair, her head falling back against the pillows as he pressed his tongue into her damp folds.
At once, she was overwhelmed, and she found herself lost in the moment. Everything else that might have had substance once upon a time faded until all she knew was the feel of his mouth on her and the frantic beat of her heart.
His tongue moved expertly inside her, pressing in deep with languid strokes that had her toes curling and her lips parting as moans and gasps escaped.
Sampson was a terrible tease, which was a realization she came to at a certain point when he pulled back enough so it was just the tip of his tongue circling her nub. Before she could complain, he was committing to his duty with force once more, making her writhe beneath him.
Just as she was teetering on the edge of oblivion, she gently placed her hands on his shoulders, halting his ministrations with a gentle push.
Sampson looked up at her, his eyes dark with desire, a question in their depths.
“Darling,” he murmured as he licked his lips, tightening his grip on her hips slightly. “Is everything all right? Do you?—”
“I want you, Sampson,” she begged, her voice thick with longing. “I need you… inside me.”
A triumphant smile touched his lips, a primal hunger blazing in his eyes. He stood, quickly shedding the rest of his clothes, his gaze never leaving hers. Catherine watched him, her desire mirroring the urgency in his movements.
He knelt between her legs, his hands framing her face, his thumbs stroking her cheeks.
“Let me hear you, love,” he murmured, his voice rough with passion. “Don’t hold back. Let everyone know who you belong to.”
As she nodded, he aligned himself with her entrance, reaching forward to hold one of her hands. And then he kissed her as he entered her slowly, gradually filling her.
The pain was immense for a moment, and Catherine cried out, holding onto his hand for dear life. The sensation was intense and overwhelming, but it teetered on the brink of pleasure.
Sampson waited until her breathing evened out before he slowly pulled out and thrust back into her. He groaned as she whined, burying his face in her neck.
“So perfect… You feel so perfect. My God.”
He continued to move his hips, each stroke pushing her further down into the pit of ecstasy. Every thrust had her clawing at the sheets, tightening her grip on him as his erection caressed her walls. Soon, she began to chase after him, their hips moving together, the rhythm slow and deliberate at first, then building in intensity.
It wasn’t long before Catherine found herself unable to stifle the sounds that escaped her lips. Sampson kept whispering words of praise in her ear, and they echoed in her mind, losing any coherency they might have possessed once upon a time. She cried out his name, arching into him, lost in the exquisite pleasure of their union.
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