Page 13 of Prelude of Love

Duke captured my mouth, his tongue pushing past my lips to claim me with a demanding kiss. When he pulled back, his breathing was ragged. “You fight dirty, Duchess.”

“Only because I know what I want. And right now, I want you to fuck me again while thinking about how good Chance would look on his knees for you.”

“No more,” Duke said firmly, pulling back from my wandering hands. “You’ve been bad enough tonight.”

I pouted, giving him my best puppy dog eyes. “But hon, I’ve been so good. Look how well I took your cock.” I shifted my hips, letting more of his release trickle out of me. “Don’t you want to fill me up again?”

“What I want is for you to behave.” Duke’s stern tone sent a delicious shiver through me, but he was already moving away.

“I could misbehave better,” I offered with a wicked grin. “I could talk about Chance riding your cock while I watch or describe how pretty his mouth would be stretched around your dick.”

“Duchess.” Duke’s warning growl only made me want him more. “That’s enough.”

I kept going. “His voice would sound so hoarse after sucking you off.”

Duke growled. “You’re pushing it.”

“Push me back,” I challenged, running my foot up his muscled thigh. “Preferably against a wall. Or the headboard. I’m not picky.”

“What you need is a time-out.” Duke caught my ankle, stopping my teasing advance. His thumb rubbed circles on my skin, gentler than his stern words suggested.

I grinned at him. “Are you going to spank me?”

“No, I’m going to clean you up, and you’ll behave while I do it.”

“That sounds boring.” I trailed my fingers down his chest. “I can think of much better ways to get dirty again.”

“Stay put. I’m getting a washcloth.”

I whined as he climbed off the bed. “But I feel so empty without your cock inside me.”

He paused at the bathroom door, his shoulders tense. “You’re impossible.”

“I’m insatiable,” I corrected. “There’s a difference.”

The look he gave me over his shoulder was equal parts exasperated and fond. “Behave.”

“Make me.” I spread my legs wider, showing him what he was walking away from. His sharp intake of breath told me the view affected him, but he still disappeared into the bathroom.

I heard the water running and sighed dramatically. “You’re no fun!”

“You’re covered in evidence that would suggest otherwise,” he called back.

The water shut off, and Duke emerged with a warm washcloth. My breath caught at the tender way he looked at me despite his supposed frustration.

He settled between my legs. “You’re not getting your way tonight.”

The first touch of the warm cloth made me shiver. Duke cleaned me with careful strokes that were both loving and clinical. It was maddening how he could touch me so intimately while maintaining his composure.

“Why not?” I complained, even as I melted under his attentive care.

“Because I said so.” Duke’s gentle touches belied his agreement. He cleaned every trace of our passion from my skin with reverent focus, his large hands impossibly tender.

My voice softened as he kissed my inner thigh. “Why are you treating me so sweetly when I want you to wreck me again?”

Duke’s laugh rumbled. “Poor baby.”

“Poor, neglected, and in desperate need of another round.”