Page 27 of Daring with a Duke (The Jennings Family #2)

27

Felicity

I nside, Felicity froze, though she did everything in her power not to let it show. There was no way they were talking. She wasn’t risking this beautiful man changing his mind. Wasn’t risking him coming up with some convoluted reason why this shouldn’t happen.

Her hands trailed lower. She had worried enough already as it was, fearing he wasn’t going to come to her. He had never said yes to her request. And she knew the man was adept at building barriers. She wasn’t so sure he had ever lived without those barriers erected.

Felicity glanced up at him, her fingers curling around his length, and he sucked in a harsh breath through his teeth. She reveled in the clench of his jaw, the way his blue eyes went indigo-black, as he slowly lost the internal battle he was fighting.

Give yourself over to pleasure. To us.

“I want a night with you, Ash. Implications be damned. No talking. Just touching. Just feeling.”

She meant it. Even if there was no future—a thought that sent panic banding around lungs—she needed a night with him. Nothing was worth risking one night with the man she had so utterly and improbably fallen for.

She was taking this moment.

For herself.

For them .

He thickened in her hand with each stroke, his uneven breaths spilling past a mouth gone soft with pleasure.

“Felicity,” he groaned, low and tortured.

“Mmmm,” she hummed, mesmerized by the feel of him, soft velvet over steel.

“Fuck, you have to stop looking at me like that.”

She let her eyes trace over the planes of his jaw, the muscle ticking just below his ear, the clench and release. Her gaze flicked up to meet his, heavy-lidded and glazed midnight. Drunk on her.

“I wish I knew how, Ash.”

His eyes slid shut, and his features tightened, pained by her words.

“Do you want it harder?” she whispered, her own breath coming rougher. “Faster?” She didn’t quite understand why, but with every pull, a pulse built deep in her core—like between her thighs was jealous of her hand.

“You’re going to kill me, Felicity.”

His words were hoarse, as if her fist were around his throat and not his cock. But he nodded. She squeezed harder, stroked faster, and his head fell back, his chest rising and falling quick and harsh. Pleasure curled inside her, deep within her core, tighter and tighter with each pass. Her gaze darted to her bed. No more delaying. She needed this man now.

His hand shot to her wrist, and she stilled.

“This is going to be over before it even begins if you keep that up. Why don’t we slow things down? Let me touch you, worship you like you deserve.”

And that had been her plan. It really had. She’d had every intention of bringing him into her room and slowly savoring every inch of his skin. And hopefully him doing the same to her. She wanted to show him how deeply she felt for him. That this was more than seduction. More than lust. More than a temporary moment.

Forever.

The word whispered through her mind, heart-stopping and hopeful and holding the power to break her. But the way his face had lit up when she’d declared her admiration of his body had changed everything. Slow was really, very, extremely unappealing right now.

He had never known what it was to be wanted, to be desired, had suffered in a lonely, empty marriage. Well, she was bloody hungry for him, for the feel of his fingers on her skin, hers on his. He’d have no reservations once she was finished with him.

She was going to eat him alive.

She stepped up against him, his cock pressing into her belly, her lips brushing against his. “While that sounds lovely, Ash…” She grazed her teeth over his bottom lip, not quite giving it a tug, and her eyes rolled back as the faint flavor of whisky and man hit her senses. “I don’t want slow and soft. I have ached for you for years .”

And to punctuate her point, she brought his hand to her breast. Her eyes slid shut at the contact of his large, warm hand against her sensitive skin. His fingers curled, cupping her, and he immediately teased her nipple with his thumb. She sucked in a breath, and her eyes shot wide when pleasure arced to her core . So that was what Maribeth meant when she spoke about how glorious nipples could be.

“Yes, most definitely not slow. I would like the hard and fast option, please.” She punctuated her words with an emphatic nod.

“ Fuuck ,” he said on a groan.

“Yes, precisely. A hard and fast fuck.”

He buried his head in her hair as his chest shook with breathy chuckles. “You are surprising me at every turn, Felicity.”

“This feels too intimate for Felicity,” she said softly.

“Lissy,” he murmured over her lips, his thumb grazing a tortuous path over her nipple.

Oh . Felicity really liked that—the pet name, that is. Well, she also quite liked the nipple rubbing. But no one had ever called her that name before. It was something just between them. Theirs.

She gave his bottom lip a light, playful nip. “Does my boldness surprise you?”

“It’s not how I would expect someone rather inexperienced to act,” he admitted, leaning back to meet her gaze, a smile curving his lips. “Though from the night you arrived, it’s been clear you are nothing if not confident—sure—in pursuing what you want.”

She winged an eyebrow. “Lucky then, that what I want is you.”

His lips split into a crooked grin. Blast and damn, the man’s smile was made to stop hearts from beating. She couldn’t think of anything better than spending the rest of her days coaxing smiles from her reserved duke. She rocked her hips against him, glorying in the feel of his hardness pressed against her.

“Plus, my best friend is somewhat of a light skirt—those skirts lift so easily I’m not sure why she wears them at all—and may have given me some advice.” She sent him a saucy little wink. “Advice I very much plan to put into practice.”

He chuckled and ducked in to kiss her as his hand trailed down her side to settle on her hip. “I must admit, I quite like you taking charge, demanding what you want. It’s a juxtaposition to how you present yourself. Demure, charming, and chaste; yet it feels like you are the one who is going to defile me.” His hand tightened on her hip, and his body trembled, as though his words were too heady a fantasy.

Mmmm . Yes, defiling him sounded excellent. “That works out well, because I have ideas for you, Duke.”

He let out a low groan. “The way you call me Duke sounds nothing short of sinful.”

Her lips curled against his. “Well, in that case. Enough chatter. Bed, Duke. Now.”

“ Bloody fucking hell . You really do want to kill me.”

Then she tugged him toward the bed, looking back over her shoulder. “No, Ash. I really want to fuck you.”

He growled, and his hands shot to her waist, shoving her back until her bottom hit her mattress. He lifted her, tossing her atop it effortlessly. Her toes curled, her muscles going instantly taut. Lord, his lean strength set her aflame.

He stepped between her thighs, his gaze locked on her bouncing breasts. She gave an extra wiggle. “If you’re going to stare that hard, Duke, might as well touch them. They ache for you.”

Ash cursed under his breath, but his hands didn’t leave her hips.

Instead, he leaned forward, his lips a hairsbreadth from hers. “Where do you ache, love?”

Her heart stumbled at the endearment. So close to hearing that word as she truly wanted.

“My breasts, my nipples. I need your hands on me.” She closed the distance and captured his lips with her own, flicking her tongue against his bottom lip. A soft growl rumbled deep in her chest. “Yesterday,” she added.

His low chuckled puffed over her lips. “As you wish.”

His mouth landed back on hers, and his hands went straight to her breasts. She was immediately assaulted by the wicked flick of his thumbs and sinful glide of his tongue. Hers tangled with his, and the way he expertly devoured her had her eyes rolling back, her hips canting in rhythm with every slide of his tongue, desperate for all the ways he could thrust into her.

She broke away, panting, and her head fell back. “ Yes , this is what I want, Ash.”

His mouth landed hungrily on her neck, and he hummed into her skin, his breath a warm silky agreement. Every tug on her nipples sent a shock directly to her core, had her moans catching in her throat. Blood surged through her veins, pooling between her thighs, throbbing, aching, needy. Everything she’d ever wanted hovered right above her. And her body, her heart, her soul knew. And it needed more .

Her legs came up around his hips, and she crossed them behind his firm arse. He was going too slow for her. She tugged him closer to her. More aggressively than she had intended, and they toppled backward with a laugh. One of his hands fell to the bed and the other snaked around her back, securing her against his chest and preventing them from collapsing into the mattress. His lips curved against hers, though he never broke their kiss.

But then both their mouths went slack, their shared breaths hitching. The change in the angle from their fall was a blessing, a delicious, pleasurable blessing. Because his cock slipped between her legs. She didn’t even care that a light pain twinged in her back from where his arm pressed against her bruise. She ground against him, needing relief from the pulsing pressure building between her thighs, needing him to fill her in a way that she knew no other man could.

He moaned into her mouth, and the crown of his cock rubbed her in teasing circles, circles that stirred velvet heat in her core. He slipped over her, each glide setting fire to her core, causing her thighs to clench tight around him, her hips to tilt toward him. Her body needed him like he was elemental to her being.

Her heart hammered violently, filling her chest with an indescribable blissful agony. Bliss at finally—finally—being granted the shadow of love she’d forever been chasing. Agony from the fragile uncertainty of that love, the knowledge that she still had so much fighting left to do to knock down this man’s barriers. And she wouldn’t stop until she obliterated them.

“Fuck, Lissy. You’re so wet for me, and I’ve barely touched you.”

“You always get me wet,” she said with a pant. “Every time I touch myself, I think of you. It’s like my body knows it’s finally getting what it’s always longed for.”

He groaned into her skin, animalistic and raw. Like her words pained him yet made him wild. He bit down on her shoulder, and her breath broke on a low moan. His teeth skated up her neck, tingling prickles of awareness rippling over her skin.

She arched into him, every part of her needing to be closer to every part of him. Oh, and what a heady thrum that closeness created. Heated skin against heated skin. The soft abrasion of his chest hair against her sensitive nipples. The blissful pressure where he was notched at her core. She swiveled her hips, frantic to get him to sink inside her. But he held back.

“Ash,” she whimpered. “I said hard and fast.” She dropped her hands to his hips, dug her fingertips into the flesh of his arse, and tried to pull him into her. But the brigand denied her. She flashed her teeth and growled at him. If he wasn’t inside her in the next breath she was going to expire.

He chuckled and slowly lowered her back to the mattress. “What an impatient little vixen you are. You won’t let me savor this at all, will you?”

“Next time, Duke. Right now, I want you to fuck me, because my body is dying with want for you.” This harlot thing came quite naturally to her. Maribeth would be proud.

He stepped back and pulled her roughly to the edge of the mattress, pulling the breath straight from her. She bounced against the plush surface and stared up at his dark, devilish grin. Oh, she really liked this side of him. She wondered what he would be like if he truly let go; no more walls, no more restraint, no more denying himself.

Would she be fortunate enough to see that man?

His fingers slid down her folds, soft and torturous. The glint in his midnight gaze spoke of a man who knew how to please a woman, and her body practically vibrated with anticipation.

Ash’s gaze fell to where he skimmed over her, silent words shaping his lips. Prayers? Blasphemes? She didn’t know. And then, strong, sure fingers sank deep inside her, and she no longer cared. A low, broken sob ripped from her, her back bowing off the mattress. More. She needed more.

But once again, he denied her. The wicked scoundrel of a man. He held her there, fingers inside her unmoving, the heel of his palm pressed against where she throbbed.

His gaze flicked up to hers. “Exquisite.” His voice was nothing but a deep timbre, tangible in how it touched every inch of her skin.

He slowly pumped his fingers in and out of her, the heel of his palm doing wicked things to the apex of her thighs that had her legs twitching, streaks of pleasure sweeping through her with each thrust. Her hands fisted the bedcovers, her thighs squeezing his hips painfully tight. Just as painfully tight as the pleasure coiling inside her.

He leaned over her, and his slick, heated skin on hers sent her to the edge. An edge she was dangerously close to spilling over.

“Ash,” she breathed. “I’m too close. In me. Now,” she gasped out. “Or as a wise duke once said, this will be over before it begins.”

He shook his head, and a sinful smile slid across his lips.

Oh heavens, that smile wrecked her. Because that smile was all confident, powerful Duke.

He lowered until his lips brushed over hers, not kissing, just wet lips dragging over wet lips. Her breath hitched, and he pulled a soft cry from her, swallowed it. She wasn’t sure if her heart or her core was going to explode first.

“Oh, Lissy,” he murmured against her lips, the dark insinuation in his tone prickling over her skin. His hand thrust harder into her. “Do you truly think I would only allow you to come just once?”

And then his fingers curled, repeatedly stroking over a spot deep inside her while his thumb slipped over her clitoris. Her breath stuttered, and she flew to the edge, every muscle in her body pulling tight. One last press of his thumb and pleasure broke over her. Her core went up in flames, her body shaking, back arching as a broken cry ripped from her. Her hands shot to his hair, needing to hold on to something, to anchor her as feeling overwhelmed her. She ground desperately against his hand, chasing every last lick of pleasure.

Lungs heaving, she sank into the mattress and stared in awe at Ash. Her body trembled, small convulsions wracking her frame while her pleasure ebbed and faded. She had never experienced a pleasure so intense… That had been…

“That was incredible, Duke,” she managed between ragged breaths. Indescribable. Extraordinary. Otherworldly. “I look forward to the next one.”

His face split into a grin.