Page 36 of Daring with a Duke (The Jennings Family #2)

36

Ash

A sh’s eyes stretched wide as he stared down at Felicity. Felicity, who was currently on her knees and undoing the front of his trousers.

“F-Felicity, what are you doing?”

“I am taking what I want, Duke. Showing you how much I love you. How much I crave you. How much I need you.”

She curled her hand around his shaft and stroked, slowly and steadily. He sucked in a sharp breath. Shite, shite, shite.

Her words had been like a sharpened blade against his barriers. Tearing at them, leaving nothing but frayed edges unraveling at the seams. And pushing forth from behind those barriers? Hope. That with her by his side, his warrior, he could finally break free. How had he ever thought he could stop this magnificent woman from doing anything she set her mind to?

“This is how this is going to go, Duke…”

His eyes dropped shut, his cock growing harder. The minx chuckled. She knew. Knew what that word did to him. Knew what her taking control did to him. God, he bloody loved it when she called him Duke. Every time she said it, all thoughts fled, and his want for her broke free from the cage in which he kept it confined.

“I’m going to use my mouth on you… I’m going to pleasure you, because that’s what brings me pleasure.”

His eyes flew to hers, and a strangled sound that he feared sounded anything but manly fled him.

“And, as I’ve never done this before, you are going to tell me exactly what you want me to do. No holding back. No hesitation.” Her mouth kicked up in that saucy half-smile he’d come to love. “Understood?”

He sank his teeth into his lip, biting hard to the point it burned. How did she do it? She, the inexperienced one, had him capitulating, had him completely at her mercy. Her voice, her words, commanded his attention. Commanded him. Even now, on her knees, he was nothing if not her servant, her supplicant.

He nodded his assent.

“I will always want your touch, Ash,” she murmured, her words soft, her breath hitching. “And I will always want to touch you.”

And he believed her.

She wet her lips and stared up at him, glistening, plump, tempting. Then she leaned forward, brushing them softly over the head of his cock. A low groan ripped from him at the same time her tongue peeked out to flick over him.

Fuck me. He was dead. He must be. Because Felicity was on her knees, caressing his cock with plush, rosy lips. And there was no way this was happening unless he was dead. Or dreaming. Or suffering from delusions.

She leaned back, gaze boring into his. “Now, tell me what you want, Duke. I am losing my patience.”

And he was losing his mind. “Is this truly happening?” he whispered hoarsely.

She grinned, all cheekiness and all Felicity. “Actually, Your Grace, nothing is happening right now. I have a craving for ducal cock, and you are so cruelly denying me.” She pouted and blinked up at him with large, hungry eyes, and if that wasn’t a sight with the power to kill, he didn’t know what was.

He reached behind him and fisted the coverlet for purchase, his heart pumping blood at a dizzying rate to his aching cock. His aching cock, which was a mere inch from Felicity’s pink, parted, glossy lips.

“Get it wet.”

Her soft, slim fingers gripped his hips and then, never dropping his gaze, she licked her lips. He reminded himself to breathe just before she leaned forward and ran her tongue over the head of him.

He forgot how to breathe again.

Fuck.

Lungs, breathe.

“Open wide,” he managed, his words slipping out low and thick.

Her jaw dropped.

His heart kicked up a notch.

“Put it in your mouth,” he grunted out.

His cock disappeared inside her pretty pink pout and the relief was instantaneous. She slid down the length of him, and a coarse sound emerged from deep in his chest. It wasn’t enough, and it was everything all at once. She slid deeper, eyes fluttering, a soft hum vibrating over him. Back up his shaft. And deeper. Wetter. Hotter.

“Fuck, just like that, Lissy.”

Her fingers dug into his hips at his praise. Her eyes didn’t once leave his; dark, determined, dilated with desire. All because she had his cock in her mouth. A bolt of lust shot through him, and he sucked in a shocked breath at the strength of it.

“U-Use your hand, too,” he choked out. “Around the base—yes, just like that. Good girl. Move with your mouth. It’ll give you more control.”

Her eyes flared, her moan sending delicious licks of heat up his shaft. He writhed, hands fisting the bedclothes, grappling for restraint. His girl loved control. And God, if he wasn’t the biggest fool. Why did he ever think he’d be able to deny her?

She sucked him deeper and gagged. Bloody fuck, yes. She backed off him, panting, her eyes watering. “Apologies,” she murmured, her cheeks coloring a faint pink.

He brushed his knuckles over her cheek, loving the heat of her blush, her blush over him . “Don’t apologize, love. That felt incredible, those lovely throat muscles clenching on me.” His body shuddered at the memory. He dragged his thumb over her dewy bottom lip, reveling in how it sprang up. “Go as slow as you need, love. You feel so good wrapped around me.”

She brought him back to her mouth, and bloody hell, her pink tongue darted out to circle his head before she slid back down his length. Warm and wet and utter perfection. She hummed against him, a low sultry purr, stroking him rhythmically in time with the slides of her mouth.

A fiery pleasure raced up his spine. At the lust evident in her amber and gold irises. Evident in the needy noises pouring from her. All because his cock was down her throat.

“Suck,” he gritted out.

Her cheeks hollowed, and bliss shot through him as the most beautiful suction surrounded his cock. A tremor shook his frame, his muscles clenching so tight he feared they might snap. She ruined him with her mouth, working him in a steady, torturous rhythm. His head fell back on a coarse groan. His cock pulsed, throbbed, desperate for the release careening toward him.

She drew him deep again, and his fist flew to her hair, halting her with his cock buried deep in her throat.

“Swallow,” he ordered.

Her throat convulsed around him, and his eyes slammed shut. A low moan tore from him as pleasure consumed him, gathering at the head of his cock. His breath burst from him, choppy and stuttered.

His eyes fluttered open, and another strangled half-moan, half-whimper fled his lips at the sight before him. Felicity’s hand was no longer on his hip, but palming her breast, her hips rocking as she sucked him with swollen lips.

Fuck, she loved this. He couldn’t hold back. His hips bucked completely on their own accord. She moaned, the vibration shooting up his shaft and straight to his ballocks. Bloody hell. His cock lodged down her throat had turned her wanton.

She drew back, sucking hard on his head, her tongue trailing underneath and hitting the perfect spot, that blessedly sensitive spot beneath the crown. His entire body locked tight, his toes curling as he strained to stave off his orgasm. He was close. Too bloody close. The impending orgasm something he desperately wanted but didn’t want to come at the same time.

Felicity frantically pulled at her skirts, groaning around his cock as she was denied access to her bare skin. But he preferred that, because he wanted to be the one who gave her relief, release. Him, his touch, his tongue. She wanted him. She told him so and proved it to him now. His heart hammered inside him. She wanted him. No. Loved him.

His eyes darted to her core and back to her. “Leave that for me, Lissy. That cunt is mine as soon as you’re done here.”

Her lids fell even lower, nearly shielding those beautiful, dazed eyes from his view. He picked up his pace, ravishing her mouth, desperate and greedy. Each drive an attack against his barriers. She took him in stride, nostrils flaring as she struggled for breath, determination glowing in her dark eyes, a tear sliding down her hollowing cheeks. Hollowing cheeks that sucked the pleasure right from him. As finally, finally, all those barriers came crumbling down.

His mind couldn’t comprehend the pleasure she gave him. It wasn’t the slick, hot friction around his aching cock. It wasn’t the teasing pressure of her tongue on the underside of his shaft. Nor the sweet, sweet suction. It was Felicity. It was her . It would never feel like this with anyone but her.

He bucked hard, pulsing, throbbing as he drove deep into her. He hit the back of her throat, and she swallowed. He was done for. Pleasure barreled down his spine until it exploded over him. His head dropped back with a hoarse roar. He fisted the bed linens, that connection the only thing keeping him upright. His muscles spasmed, clenching tight as wave after wave of hot liquid bliss was drawn from him.

His chest heaved, his lungs straining for air as he came back down. But the lethargy, the boneless satisfaction didn’t last, and he tensed. Bloody hell, he hadn’t even warned her. He hadn’t even made sure she knew what to expect, confirmed she was sure she wanted him to spend in her mouth.

But a small smile hid behind where she was using the fabric of her skirts to clean away the mess he’d made of her. And then she licked her lips, letting out a low, satisfied hum, and his shoulders relaxed.

“Flick, is everything all right? I heard—What the bloody fuck! Get off my sister!” A roar shook the room. “I’ll kill you!”

Fuck.

Felicity scrambled back, her face beet-red. Whereas Ash, he froze. He couldn’t move, his limbs no longer responded to what his brain ordered them to do.

Fuck.

Lord Bentley was almost on him before his body started functioning again. He hastily shoved himself back into his trousers and blurted, “It’s not what it looks like.” He glanced at Felicity. Her eyes rolled, her expression saying truly, that is what you said? Well, fuck… He could barely form a single thoug—

“Felix, No!”

A fist cracked against his jaw, snapping his head to the side, and pain radiated through his skull.

A scream rent the chamber.

Ash shook his head, trying to regain his bearings. His sodding eyes wouldn’t focus. Come on, bloody focus, Ash.

“ Felix, stop this instant.” Felicity’s voice was high-pitched and pleading. She was draped over her brother’s arm, trying to hold him back.

But Felix was out for blood, teeth bared, face red, murder in his eyes.

Ash was a dead man.

And unfortunately, Ash didn’t have a justifiable reason to fight back. He had just had his cock down the man’s sister’s throat. Unmarried sister. It was only gentlemanly to take his punishment from the man.

Felix finally shook Felicity off and charged at Ash, gripping him by the throat, and thrusting him into the bedpost.

“You bastard!” He squeezed tighter, and Ash’s hands flew to Lord Bentley’s.

Ash tore at the man’s hands but fuck if Lord Bentley’s grip wasn’t impenetrable.

“Is this why you broke the betrothal? To take part in your own sick perversion?” he spat.

He slammed Ash against the bed post again, and pain shot up Ash’s spine. His lungs fought desperately for air. He wasn’t getting enough.

“I’ll kill you for what you’ve done. And I. Will. Relish it.”

Ash wasn’t sure if it was the lack of oxygen or if Lord Bentley’s voice really did drop that low and malevolent. What had the man said? His brain wasn’t registering the words.

His vision dotted; the sounds of the room drowned out by the blood rushing in his ears. A distant shout reached him through his fog and then the pressure around his throat blessedly disappeared. He sank in a heap on the floor, gasping for breath, his lungs screaming, throat feeling like it had been trampled by a coach and four.

“Felix, get yourself under fucking control,” Felicity was yelling.

Lord Bentley thrashed against Sam. Thank bloody hell for Sam. Sam shoved the man toward the door, but he was putting up a valiant effort to get back to Ash. Fortunately, Lord Bentley was nothing on the hulk that was Sam.

Sam’s voice was deadly when he spoke. “You need to calm yourself, my lord . You touch His Grace again, and I’ll break your face, lord or not.”

Felix snarled, teeth bared, more animal than man.

“Mr. Thorne, take my brother to his chamber now.” Felicity thrust a finger at Lord Bentley. “You will go, Felix. And you will behave yourself,” she bit out. “I will join you momentarily. Compose yourself and stop acting like a bloody barbarian.”

Felix ceased struggling, but his nostrils flared as snorting, enraged breaths burst from him.

“I will see you at dawn,” he gritted out, and then allowed Sam to push him from the room.

Fuck.