Page 20 of A Duchess Bound (Dukes of Dominance #2)

With a smirk, he drove his fingers into her again.

She gasped, the suddenness of his movement jolting through her.

Dorothy’s back arched. She fell back harshly against the linens.

Gasps tore from her throat as he mercilessly drove his fingers into her.

Lewd, wet sounds filled the air, and Dorothy groaned.

She quickly neared her release, her body already desperate for him. Uneven, needy sounds emerged from her. Every touch of his hand against her sex threatened to undo her. She shivered and bucked and cried, and then?—

A wave of pleasure swept over her. She felt as though she was coming apart, white light obscuring her vision. Dorothy gasped and lay against the bed linens, putting her weight back on her shoulders. Slowly, she came to herself again.

Dorothy was all too aware of how she must look to him, damp with sweat and flushed. Her breasts had nearly worked themselves free from her bodice, and her skirts were still lifted past her waist. Her legs and sex were exposed to his eyes and hands. She shivered.

The feeling that came over her was not quite shameful , but there was an awareness that no man had ever seen this much of her and that she should not have allowed this encounter.

His Grace lowered himself on the bed beside her and propped himself up on one elbow. “Shall I untie you?”

Dorothy laughed, heady with the exhilaration of what they had done. “That is probably for the best,” she said.

She sat upright, and he deftly removed the ropes from around her wrists.

His fingers caressed the fabric of her gloves.

Even those light touches made Dorothy shiver.

Her toes curled in the bed linens, and she looked over her shoulder at him.

Dorothy’s eyes dipped curiously to the place between his thighs, where there was an entirely noticeable bulge.

“Shall I…” she trailed off, heat rushing to her cheeks.

His Grace caressed her wrists, gingerly smoothing over the places where the ropes had bitten. Dorothy had only just noticed that.

“Yes?” he prompted gently.

“Shall I do that for you?” she asked, her voice shaking. “I am certain that—that you must long for some pleasure.”

His Grace kissed the place where Dorothy’s neck met her shoulder. “What a lovely woman you are. That is so very thoughtful of you.”

She shivered and leaned her head back, inhaling his cologne and something strange and sultry. It took Dorothy a long time to realize that it was the scent of her own sex and release that she smelled.

“Such a good girl,” he murmured. “I appreciate you thinking of me, but that is not necessary. I prefer to wait, my dearest.”

“To wait?”

Dorothy felt a shudder of horror at the thought of waiting. She had waited until His Grace saw fit to give her pleasure, and the experience had not been pleasant in the least!

The duke laughed. “You sound appalled. The wait will only heighten the pleasure. Come, my lady. I have food and drink for us.”

He offered his hand and helped her rise. With a sly grin, he tucked the rope back into the pocket of his coat. Dorothy’s breath gave a little, faltering hitch.

“Did you enjoy the experience?” he asked.

“Yes,” she said. “Very much.”

Upon further reflection, maybe there was something to be said about waiting for pleasure. The release had been magnificent, and her body still shook with the memory of it.

Dorothy seated herself on the ground beside him, adjusting her bodice and smoothing her skirts. His Grace opened a crystal-cut decanter and poured her a small amount of a golden liquid. “I do not imagine you have ever tried scotch before.”

“I have not.”

“Take caution with the first swallow,” he said. “You will find that it has some bite.”

Dorothy swallowed tentatively and choked a little. She wrinkled her nose and swallowed. The taste was pleasant. Unusual. But His Grace had been correct about the bite.

“I have developed quite a fondness for it,” he said, pouring his own glass. “I like to…share things that I am fond of.”

Dorothy plucked a grape from one of the plates and ate it, enjoying the sweetness after the harshness of the scotch. His Grace’s eyes remained intently fixed upon her face. Even though it was dark, she sensed the hunger lurking there.

“Is that why you have asked me to submit to you?” Dorothy asked. “You wish to see me submit, so you may share the joys of the bedroom with me.”

“Practically, I suppose you are right.” There was something odd in his voice, but Dorothy could not quite identify what it was. “But I also enjoy your company. That was my motivation for asking.”

“You barely know me.”

“I know enough. I know that you are kind and that you care about your family. I know that you are brilliant and fierce.”

Dorothy considered asking if he said those same things to all the ladies with whom he’d had dalliances, but she decided against it.

His words made her chest tighten with fondness.

She liked to think that she was brilliant and fierce, and she did not want to destroy the illusion that he truly thought she was something amazing.