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I look into his eyes. “Yes?”
“I am madly, completely in love with you. There’s no one else before you to me. Not even Torin O’Grady.”
I suck in a little breath. I was digging for some kind of declaration. I didn’t know if I was going to get the L word, but I’m not shocked that he’s using it, and it thrills me to my very bones. But the way he said it, the way he made sure I understand that I’m first, even in front of the man who will someday be king, matters. And I know that he knows that it matters.
I swallow. “I’m in love with you too. And I will go wherever you go and do whatever you do. I really think that we are going to make a difference. Somehow, in some way. Together.”
He pulls me in and gives me a kiss unlike any other before this. It’s soft and deep, and definitely still makes my toes curl, but it is full of so much emotion. It’s like he has been holding so much back and is now letting it all pour into me.
Of course, this broody, loyal, sweet-underneath-the-gruff-exterior, amazingly strong man, would not just say I love you. He would make it into something beautiful and amazing that I’ll never forget.
I drag my mouth along his jaw and down his neck. I feel him shudder underneath my hands. I keep going, kissing along his collarbone, then down over his chest. I flick my tongue over the designs of his tattoo. I love the heat and the taste of his skin and the firmness of the muscle underneath. His body is so different from mine, and I want to be against it. I want to have it on top of me. I want to be wrapped around it.
I have this deep craving that I know has to do with this man, and I know I need to be as close to him as possible. I slide back on his lap and wiggle down between his thighs to kneel between his legs. He doesn’t stop me. I continue kissing and licking down over the ridges of his abdomen, down to the deep V that cuts inside his hip. I lick along that crease to the base of his cock. Then I move to the impressive length. He moves his hand and I look up at him. His jaw is tight, and it looks like he’s struggling to breathe.
But he’s watching me with so much heat and possessiveness and lust that my entire body feels like it might melt.
I flatten my palms and run them up and down over his chest, then his abs, then his thighs.
“Touch me, Duchess. Wrap your hands around me.”
I do as I’m told, wrapping my fingers around his cock, touching him for the first time. He’s thick and heavy, and I love the feel of him in my fist. I do what I watched him do to himself, squeezing and stroking from base to tip, then down again.
He sucks in a sharp breath. “Duchess,” he says, ragged.
I love affecting this man.
I stroke up to the top, then lower my head and put my tongue against the base of his cock. I drag it up to the very tip, slow and steady, tasting him, loving the low guttural groan it pulls from deep within him.
His hand cups the back of my head and his fingers tangle in my hair.
I look up. “Tell me what to do. “
“Anything you want. It all feels so fucking good.”
“I’m supposed to take you in my mouth, right?”
He swallows hard. “You’re not going to be able to. Not fully. Just explore, baby. You can learn my size and how I feel this way. It’ll be less intimidating when I get between those pretty thighs.”
“Does this feel as good as if I could take you all the way in?”
He groans and tips his head back. “It all feels good. Just fucking seeing you on your knees in front of me is almost enough to make me come.”
I am intrigued by all of this. It seems so easy to turn him on. I love that.
I understand it too. Just watching his hands grip a coffee cup is enough to make heat swirl through my stomach. Just hearing him laugh is enough to make my pussy clench. Just having his hand against my lower back or grasping my elbow is enough to send tingles through me. I once watched him shrug out of his suit jacket, loosen his tie, roll the sleeves of his dress shirt up, and then climb a ladder to retrieve some old vinyl records from a high shelf in Diarmuid’s office. I swear my body temperature went up ten degrees just observing all of that.
So I understand how seemingly little things can be a turn-on when you’re crazy about someone.
I lean in and lick his length again. “Is this enough? Tell me something else I can do.”
His fingers thread through my hair, and he gathers it back at the base of my head into a ponytail, holding it in one fist. “Suck on the tip, Duchess.”
I like that idea. I lick him again, and when I get to the top, I suck gently on the head.
He groans and tugs gently on my hair. I lift my head. “Like that?”
“Yeah.” He sounds like it’s hard to talk. “Just like that. You can suck harder. You can squeeze me harder too. “