Page 60
Story: The Duke's Counterfeit Wife
Her tongue seemed to be stuck on that sound.
Perhaps it will be the sound you make when he touches your cunny.
Oh. Ahh.
Ooooh.
“Christ, Flick, ye drive a hard bargain.”
And then his free hand was on her neck, pulling her closer, and his mouth was slanting over hers.
Suddenly, she didn’t mind in the least that he’d completely misunderstood her words.
This kiss was hard and fast and hot. Somehow, her lower lip ended up between his teeth, and when he sucked, she made an embarrassingly moist sound.
Her lip popped free and that analytical part of her brain, the part that always noticed things, noticed that he was breathing as heavily as she was.
“Is that how ye want it?” Griffin rasped, his face close enough to hers she was in danger of going cross-eyed, were she worried about something as trivial as sight when there were all these glorious feels to contend with. “This is what it’ll take to keep yer cooperation on this mission?”
Her mouth was still opened, but the only sound which emerged was another sort of, “Ah.”
“Fook,” he hissed.
“Ah—I do not want.” Felicity closed her mouth, swallowed, then tried again. “Griffin, if you are uncomfortable with this, with me, I am not blackmailing—” Well, she rather was, wasn’t she? “I mean, only if this is something you want—”
“Want?” His laugh wasn’t very amused. “Fook aye, I want it. I’m a man, are I no’?”
And with that, he took her hand, flipped it over once more, and pressed it against the lump in his trousers. The long, hard length of his-his penis.
Felicity’s fingers curled around it, entirely without her control.
Her mouth watered, and her breathing became as uneven as his.
“This is it, Flick. Ye want this?”
“Yes,” she breathed, fear and hope warring within.
He closed his eyes on a groan of surrender. “Then ye’ll have it.”
With that, he pulled her close again, his lips claiming hers.
Joy spiked in her stomach, joy and anticipation and desire unlike she’d ever experienced. Felicity wanted this—she wanted him.
As his lips moved atop hers, she lifted herself off the seat and shifted one of her legs over his knee, pressing closer to him, always closer, trying to become one. Her hips bucked against his thigh, her fingers squeezed his hardness, and she whimpered low in her throat.
“That’s it, lass,” he whispered harshly, as his lips moved to her jaw, then that sensitive spot below her ear. “Fooking use me. Take what ye need.”
The throbbing in her core was becoming nearly unbearable, and she began to gyrate against him.
“Griffin,” she gasped, arching in his hold. “Please.”
And that’s when the door opened.
“We’re coming up on—oh I say.” Ian backed out of the compartment so quickly his back slammed against the opposite wall. “Please forgive me.”
Felicity was fairly certain her heart had momentarily stopped there.
She met Griffin’s eyes, and for a moment, swore she saw amusement in them. Then his hands were around her waist, and he was placing her away from him, his movement quick, efficient.
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