Page 15 of A Gamble on the Duke (The Gambling Dukes #4)

Pleasure was the wrong word. Alfred’s nostrils flared as his eyes widened, his gaze dancing down my form that was most obvious thanks to my nightgown. “Pleasure is something I have attempted not to give you.”

Oh dear Lord, I was ready to melt upon this bed—his bed. The duke’s bed!

Did the man have any idea what he was doing to me?

Alfred rose from the bed in a swift movement. “I’d better—my valet will be arriving soon, I would guess, with a fresh shirt before I go down to breakfast. Not that there isn’t something else I’d rather be eating.”

My lips parted. He couldn’t mean…could he?

“You are beautiful,” said Alfred quietly, his face looking far more serious than I had ever remembered. “I am not one to ruin a lady, but if you wish for…well. A little pleasure. I can ensure that no one will ever know—you will not have lost your innocence. Not technically.”

Not technically?

Only a duke could say such a thing, and mean it. Why, the man had absolutely no idea what?—

It was just so unfortunate that my body was absolutely aching for him. It was enticing, sitting here in his bedchamber, knowing that no one would ever know…

“You can’t be serious,” I said weakly.

“Well, we agreed I could kiss you,” Alfred said softly, his eyes now a devilishly gleam in the gloom. “We never agreed where. ”

He dropped to his knees and I should have told him then to get up, to stop being so ridiculous.

But I didn’t.

I had always wondered…what woman hadn’t?

Oh, I was not entirely ignorant. My poor great aunt, the Dowager Countess of Ormkirk, had one day sat me down and attempted to explain precisely how a lady and a gentleman made a baby—much to her shock, I had already read up on such things in a book.

But there was something different about reading it in a book, and experiencing it. Besides, my imagination since moving into the Duke of Kineallen’s townhouse had rather gifted me some ideas that I knew I would never be brave enough to ask for.

And the man did seem designed to know exactly how to kiss me.

And now I looked down, chest heaving with fluttering breaths, as Alfred grinned, parted my knees, and starting kissing up my thighs as he pushed my nightgown aside.

“Oh God,” I moaned, my back curling against the bed.

This was outrageous. Men didn’t kiss me—kiss me there after knowing me for just mere days!

Except this one did, and he was about to do an excellent job of it, that I also knew. Alfred’s tongue had a way of?—

“Oh!” I started as he licked along the crease of my secret place.

Stars were appearing in my eyes and there wasn’t anything I could do—there wasn’t anything I wanted to do.

Why would I want to stop this? Pleasure was aching in me, the longing between my legs growing from the minute I had accidentally pressed raspberry pastries into his waistcoat outside my shop .

I could admit it to myself now, even if I had been unable to admit it to anyone then.

My fingers managed to find his shoulders and I relaxed into the pleasure as Alfred started to delicately tease his tongue into my folds. Sparks of heat, burning heat, rushed up my body and I began to pant.

This was absolutely scandalous! I could see what he meant, no one would ever be able to tell that I had experienced such heady bliss…but how could I do such a thing to a man who was not my husband, not even my betrothed?

And how would I ever summon the strength to ask him to stop?

“Yes,” I breathed.

Oh God, this was beyond anything I could ever have imagined. Not just the fact that it was pleasure, something I craved, and not just because it was a duke, which fed into the fantasy I’d held for years.

A duke, worshipping me. A duke, and me in his bed. A duke, his tongue against my clit.

But this was ridiculous—anyone could enter the room. His valet—the servants who made him breakfast every morning!

And somehow the knowledge that at any moment, someone could come up here, see us, hear me, see Kineallen on his knees, his mouth against my secret place worshipping me?—

It was enough to push me over the edge.

And I fell apart. “Yes, yes, yes!”

My lungs cried out as my body exploded with ecstasy, and I didn’t care anymore: I wanted them to come up, wanted them to see. Everyone needed to know that Kineallen was making love to me, and I was enjoying every lick of it .

Kineallen

God, she tasted so good. Just like I had hoped.

I almost wept as my fingers clung to her thighs and my tongue tasted the sweet, honeyed nectar that was all Catherine Shenton, pushing aside her nightgown so I could gain entrance.

This sweetness: I’d longed for this connection for so long. Had dreamt of it at times, when I was stiff and throbbing and couldn’t do anything about it.

My own hand simply wasn’t enough. It wasn’t a climax I needed—well, not only a climax. It was the sense of a woman, the touch of her, the taste of her. The knowledge that I was giving Catherine the best pleasure she had ever had in her life.

The knowledge that she was coming into my mouth because I had got her there.

Yes, perhaps this wasn’t the best timing—but I couldn’t bear it any longer, and I had been right.

Neither could she.

Catherine had welcomed me under her nightgown and into her secret place without a hint of censure, and I could tell why the minute I dropped to my knees and brought my mouth to her secret place.

She was dripping.

Dripping for me. The ache in my manhood heightened but I knew I couldn’t think about that now. I had to think about her. Had to help her, because poor Catherine had been dripping for me for I didn’t know how long.

It was time to put her out of her misery—for a second time.

“Oh, God… ”

I moaned in my mouth as my tongue slipped into her wetness, as Catherine breathed her gratitude that I was finally giving her what she needed.

What I had known she’d needed from the moment that we had kissed.

God, there was nothing like her. As my tongue gently explored, sucking slightly on her clit so Catherine whimpered, I felt her fingers grasp my shoulders.

Hell yes. The woman couldn’t do anything but cling on, and I hadn’t even got her close again, not yet.

It didn’t take long. I had memorized the contours of Miss Catherine Shenton the moment I had seen her, and this skill wasn’t something a man forgot.

He did not forget precisely what a woman liked, how to get her to pant, how to twist her into such a delicate knot that she’ll tear herself apart in pleasurable pain just to undo herself.

And she was swiftly undone.

“Yes, yes, yes,” Catherine cried out as my tongue relentlessly circled her clit.

That was what I knew would get her over the edge, and I felt her come hard, come into my mouth but also come against the bed.

Oh God, it was almost enough to make me cream right into my breeches.

Catherine, coming. Catherine, gasping. Catherine, taking the pleasure she deserved.

By the time I emerged from her, I could see that she couldn’t quite believe she’d done it. Allowed me to do it. Do it here, where we could be discovered.

I grinned, licking my lips. “You taste incredible. I could get used to that.”