Page 28 of Daring with a Duke (The Jennings Family #2)

28

Ash

T his woman. She was extraordinary.

He couldn’t unsee her reveling in the pleasure he’d brought her with his touch—her head tilted back, eyes shut as she cried her release. He had been embarrassingly close to coming at the sight. He may have fantasized about this very thing; but reality? Nothing could ever compare. To this. To her.

He massaged her thighs in the same rhythm he massaged his cock into her, the slickness from her orgasm easing his way. He groaned low from the depths of his chest, and he slid all the way home. His heart faltered before picking back up again. Home.

And he knew in this moment, this was everything that was missing from his life. The intimacy he craved, had longed for. Here it was. She took each piece of him and put him back together. Repairing all his damaged places. With belonging, with happiness, with felicity. With Felicity.

She stared at him, heavy lidded, her amber gaze like dark liquor lit on fire. He slowly slid out and drove back in. He groaned at the glorious sensation of being completely enveloped by her. She held him tight, wet, and pulsing, and it was perfection . He slid his hands to her arse and lifted her, bringing her even closer, sinking even deeper. His entire body vibrated, his lungs pumping out breaths that were shaky, rough, jagged.

“Are you well?” he asked through clenched teeth. He didn’t want this to ever end, but he knew it was going to be pitifully short. She felt too much like heaven.

She nodded, her movements still sluggish, languid. He moved slowly, savoring the way she hugged him, her intimate muscles squeezing on each thrust, watching as the loose-limbed lethargy faded away and lust darkened her gaze once more. Lust that touched every inch of him, burning a path across his skin everywhere it fell.

Her hips began tilting up to meet each of his slow thrusts, and he paused when they met, grinding against her. Her breath hitched each time, and he captured each one of those soft intakes. Stored them inside himself. Each one a gift. Her pleasure, her body, her heart. A gift.

Her movements turned frantic, jerky, needy. And his vixen demanded what she wanted. “Harder, Ash. I need more. Deeper. Need to feel more of you.”

And he couldn’t agree more. He didn’t think it was possible for him to get close enough, deep enough. He quickened his pace, still controlled, but the sweat trickling down his neck, his balls drawing up tight, made it clear he wasn’t going to last much longer. And God, now that he’d picked up speed, driving into her—her full breasts bounced with every thrust in the most deliciously erotic way.

She met him thrust for thrust, her thighs flexing around him. Bloody hell, she would ride him so well if they had the chance. Pleasure coiled tight, an ache simmering in the head of his cock that threatened to explode. He ground his teeth and stilled her hips, his fingers digging into her, as though his biting grip could stave off his orgasm. He panted, eyes slammed shut. Not yet. He couldn’t be done with her yet.

He leaned down, his hips unmoving, and brought his mouth to her breast, laving her nipple. She let out a low keening moan, and her hips fought desperately against his hold. But he needed her closer to the edge. He wasn’t ending this until she came a second time.

Her breaths exploded from her lips, erratic and frayed. Her hands delved into his hair, gripping painfully tight, holding him to her breast. Breathy, near-incoherent demands flowed from her.

“There.”

“Suck.”

“Bite.”

“Harder.”

So, he gave it to her. Whatever she asked for, he would give her.

He scraped his teeth over her nipple, and she let out a low, husky purr. “I’m so close, Ash. Move, damn it. Now.”

Her rough, desperate words went straight to his cock. No one had ever responded to his touch like this, like she would expire if he were to stop. And that feeling, that knowledge, it was bloody addictive.

He kissed her neck, trailing his tongue along the arched muscle all the way to her ear. “I want your fingers on your quim as soon as I lift off you,” he murmured. “You get yourself to the edge and you stop. Understood?”

She nodded, the curve of her ear rubbing against his lips with the movement.

“And you don’t start again until I start thrusting.”

“Yes, Duke.”

His cock jumped at the throaty response. Her hands were already gone from his hair and pushing between their flushed bodies. He lifted off her and ground his hips, allowing himself a small tease that sent sparks shooting through to the tip of his cock. Her hands dipped between her thighs and slid over herself in quick tight circles.

“Good girl,” he praised, his gaze locked on the sight of her delicate fingers flying over her cunt. “Fuck, the sight of you working yourself… I don’t ever want to unsee it. I want it permanently etched into my brain.”

She whimpered, and his gaze shot to hers. Her burnt amber eyes, nearly closed, peeked at him through a soft frill of lashes.

He laced her free hand with his and placed their entwined fingers over her heart. He slid out of her slowly. Then sank back home.

“I want to be so deeply inside you—”

He thrust leisurely, unhurried. Savoring her. Savoring this moment.

“So entrenched in you, consumed by you—”

His gaze clashed with hers, and he let his heart speak for him.

“That you and I are no more; only us remains.”

Her hand stilled, chest heaving, mouth parted, cheeks flushed. She dipped her chin in a nod, permission to take them both over the edge.

He released her hand and fell to his forearm, his other hand gripping her hip. “Us,” he whispered over her lips.

He slid out until just the tip of him was cradled by her heat.

“Us,” she whispered back.

And he drove home.

He used his hold on her for leverage and destroyed them both, his pace punishing. She was warm and wet and wondrous, squeezing him, streaks of pleasure pulling at him. Heated skin slid against heated skin, tongues tangling, lips demanding, hearts pounding. Her nails dug into his back, uneven stuttered breaths exploding from her.

“Ash, oh God, Ash… I can’t—”

He couldn’t either.

They were nothing but sweat-slicked, slapping skin, desperate curses, and breathy groans. Primal and guttural and raw. Raw like the way his heart was being ripped apart at the seams.

Her walls fluttered on him and then spasmed, a cry flying from her lips. Her hands raked over his back, gripping him as tightly as her cunt clenching his cock. He nearly ground his teeth to dust as he held out as long as he was able before withdrawing, his hand shooting to his cock. He followed her over the edge, his cum coating her belly, burying his hoarse cry in her neck.

He collapsed against her, and her arms instantly curled around him, her thighs sliding up, squeezing against his hips. Like she wanted to latch onto him and never let him go. Emotion clogged his throat.

If only he could let her keep him.