Page 45 of Daring with a Duke (The Jennings Family #2)
A short while later…
A SOFT GIGGLE escaped Felicity, despite how she tried to hold it back with lips pressed tight. Ash stalked her, looming, forcing her backward across the drawing room. A bubbly giddy feeling bloomed deep in her belly. Because her husband had ideas. Ideas that spoke of wicked, wicked things if his dark, heavy-lidded eyes, and arrogant smirk were any indication.
Her heel met with the wall behind her, halting her retreat. Then all mirth fled as Ash bent and gathered her skirts and petticoats, soft fabric whispering over her skin, leaving cool air in its place as he exposed her limbs inch by inch. And then his hands gripped her hips, and she was abruptly lifted, back colliding with the wall, breath leaving her lungs on a whoosh . Oh dear.
She scrambled to wrap her arms and legs around him, but none of it was necessary. He held her securely with his strength alone. His mouth crashed down on hers and there was only one way to describe the way his tongue tangled with hers. It was a claiming. It was dominant, forceful, thrust against hers, not allowing for any doubt of who she belonged to. Her legs tightened where they were wrapped around him and she use the wall as leverage, trying to get herself as close to him as possible.
Their mouths broke apart, chests heaving, and she stared into his wild midnight eyes. Her fingers drifted into his short locks, just enough to latch onto. “What has gotten into you tonight, Duke? I’ve never witnessed this possessive side of you before.” She rolled her bottom lip into her mouth, needing a moment because the way he was looking at her—hungry, dangerous, as though he intended to prove just how utterly she was his, body and soul—had her thoughts completely muddled. “I have to say,” she said breathlessly. “I think I quite like it.”
He pressed a tantalizingly soft kiss to her lips. But there was nothing soft in the promise that kiss made. He nuzzled along her jaw until his lips hovered by her ear. “I didn’t like the way they were looking at you,” he murmured, his voice edged with a light growl. “Like you were an option . Like the old cove that I am, cannot keep my young duchess completely satisfied.” The growl intensified. “Questioning my virility.”
His fingers tightened on her hips. “Unbutton my breeches, Duchess.”
She cast her lids low, peering at him from beneath her lashes, her hands falling to the placket of his breeches. She let the years of perfectly proper virtuous behavior wash over her. “As you wish, Your Grace,” she murmured demurely, popping button after button free.
His lips curled back, and a deep rumbling purr left him.
She undid the last button; the placket falling away, leaving his length straining against the thin fabric of his smalls. “What are you going to do with me?” she asked softly, the innocence in her tone belied by her wandering hands dipping into his smalls and trailing softly over where he was hard and ready for her.
His heated gaze locked on hers, gripped her like a hand around her throat. “Take me out, love.”
He lifted her at the same time she freed him from his smalls. His cock slid between her legs, and her hands shot back to his shoulders to steady herself. He teasingly coasted over her, slick and sinful.
“So wet for me, Duchess.”
“Always,” she breathed.
Her heart rate kicked up each time he passed over her entrance, not knowing if that pass would finally be the time he sank home. And then he leaned forward, lips brushing, teeth grazing over the sensitive skin of her neck. “Hold on tight, Duchess. Because I’m going to fuck you until your body sings.”
He thrust home, a keening moan falling from her lips. And then there was nothing teasing, nothing unhurried about how they came together. It was rough, it was desperate, it was violent . And Felicity bloody loved it. Her back slammed into the wall with every thrust. She dug the heels of her slippers—one popping off and landing on the floor with a thud— into the backs of his thighs, trying desperately to get closer, for him to sink deeper.
Their mouths collided; a mix of tangled tongues interspersed with guttural noises ripped from each of them as they let everything go but the pleasure they found with each other. Animalistic and raw. Her eyes rolled back as he hit that glorious spot deep inside her. Her thighs clenched like a vice around him, back pressing firmly into the wall as she held herself perfectly still while he drove into her over and over again, hitting her in a place that had stars dotting her vision. She tried to form words, but nothing but breathy moans and half sobs fell from her.
“That’s right, Duchess. Your pleasure is the sweetest symphony I’ve ever heard.” He thrust hard. “Who do you sing for?” he demanded.
“You, Duke,” she gasped out.
He drove into her even harder. “Try again,” he gritted out.
“Your Grace. I sing for you, Your Grace.”
He stilled.
No! A whimper burst from her, her hands scrambling desperately over his shoulders. Needing him to move, hit that spot, grind his hips into her. Something. Anything .
Ragged breaths surged from him, chest rising and falling rapidly, his entire body as rigid as marble. His gaze pierced into her, straight through to the essence of her. And when he spoke, his words were just as dark, just as volatile as his gaze. “Who, Felicity.”
And she finally understood exactly what he was asking for. Her hands slid to cradle his jaw, and she leaned forward until they were nearly nose to nose. “Ashely James Stuart, Duke of Devonford. I only sing for you.”
His eyes slammed shut, and a pained groan left him. “Bloody fucking right, you do.” And then his grip on her was loosening, her feet touching the ground, and he was spinning her around to face the wall.
“Hands on the wall, Lissy. Arse out.”
She did as he said, giving her arse a saucy little shake because, well, she was Felicity Jennings after all. His dark chuckle shivered over her skin and, once again, all mirth evaporated, replaced by rampant lust.
His hands dug into the flesh of her hips, tilting her for him, and he let out a low, satisfied hum. “Someone’s desperate for their duke.” He leaned forward, the heat of his body, even through his layers of clothing, surrounding her. “I can see you clenching on nothing, darling. Are you aching?” His tip notched at her entrance.
“Yes,” she hissed out, trying to push back onto him. Her patience was wearing extremely thin. Her entire core pulsed with want. She needed him back inside her. She had been so close before he pulled back and now her body was in agony, frantic for release.
“Ask nicely,” he whispered in her ear.
“Please, Ash. Fuck me already.”
His lips curved into a smile against her throat and then his weight disappeared, and he slammed into her. Her mouth dropped open on a silent cry and her fingertips curled into the wall as she braced herself against his unyielding thrusts. One of his hands slid over her hip to the front of her, but she slapped it away and saw to the task herself. There was nothing she loved more than the feeling of him sliding in and out of her.
She was so close, but she skipped over where her pleasure centered and slid her fingers lower, gliding around him so she could feel his slick, silky cock driving into her. A low groan left him, and his thrusts grew stuttered—a telltale sign he was close.
“Come inside me, Ash,” she said between pants.
He froze for the briefest of moments, so brief that she only detected it because of how perfectly matched they were with each other.
“We don’t have to be careful anymore. I want no barriers. I want you to give me everything.” Her voice was nothing but a desperate plea.
He picked up his pace, his thrusts so strong her palm was forced against the apex of her thighs with every pass. Her muscles pulled taut, pleasure coiled tight, tighter still as she teetered on the edge. He thrust again and bliss broke over her, sweeping through her, sparking in her veins. Her fingernails clawed into the wall as a sob ripped from her throat.
He drove into her, hips jerky and erratic. And then he was burying his hoarse yell in her neck, his hands biting into her skin as he held still, deep inside her, filling her. No barriers. Just raw, unadulterated love. As close and intimate as two people could be. His words flittered through her mind, as clear as they were nearly a year ago. You and I are no more; only us remains.
Her body trembled beneath his and emotion clogged her throat. Dear God, how she loved this man.
“I love you, Lissy. So damn much.”
Her heart floated happily in her chest, at his words mirroring her own thoughts, at the sentiment evident in the thickness of his tone. He felt it too.
“I love you too, Ash,” she whispered, not capable of forming anything more.
He pulled away from her and even though she couldn’t see him, she could sense him. Sense how his movements halted. How his breathing stopped. How his gaze burned into her flesh.
Her chin brushed her shoulder as she dared a peek at him. And her heart clattered against her ribcage and then took off at a rampant pace. Because her possessive, dangerous Duke was back, his gaze obsidian black as he stared at the heart of her.
One of his fingers lightly coasted over her inner thigh, sliding through the evidence of their lovemaking. And then she was unceremoniously spun, skirts dropping around her, fourteen stones of unrestrained duke bearing down upon her. He pressed her into the wall, mouth slamming against hers in a fervent, sinful kiss.
He pulled back, breaths bursting from them as sharp as a gunshot. She blinked dazedly at him, reeling from whatever had just come over Ash.
“H-handkerchief, please?”
He slowly shook his head, his lips quirking up in a half-smile that spoke of forbidden things. Ash’s hands slid down her waist, over her hip, down to her legs. Where he pressed them together. She gasped, his seed sliding over her thighs, making an utter sticky mess of her.
His eyes flashed, pure devilry. “You’re going to walk out there,” he said, his low, rich baritone causing her breath to catch. “My seed coating your skin. And all those men will look at you, wanting you . But you’ll know exactly who you belong to.” He leaned forward, lips brushing over hers at his next words. “A reminder that I have no issue satisfying my woman.”
She slumped bonelessly against the wall. “Bloody hell, Ash,” she whimpered, not embarrassed in the least that it came out as a desperate whine. “If I had known a night like this would bring out this side of you, I would have dragged you to a ball a long, long time ago.”
He nuzzled into her neck, the warmth of his sigh sinking into her skin and filling her entire body.
“How utterly uncivilized you are,” she murmured.
He pulled back, a wicked smile donning his face.
But her Duke underestimated her. Because she wanted him as disarmed and undone as she was.
“Perhaps next time,” she said with feigned indifference. “I can get on my knees for you, Duke.” She cocked her head, fluttering her eyelashes lightly. “You can use me. Thoroughly. And when we return to the ballroom, my lips swollen and deep pink, there will be no question about what we were just doing.” She peered up at him, flirtation seeping like syrup into her tone. “Everyone will know I was servicing my duke.”
He growled. “God, Lissy. You’re going to kill me, I swear.”
Her face split into a grin. “Mmm” she agreed. “I wouldn’t be your Freya otherwise.”
He leaned forward and pressed a gentle kiss to her lips. “My Freya.”
Thank you so much for reading Daring with a Duke!
Up next is Felix's story—releasing July 2025.
I know, I know. JULY LIZZIE?! But I'm working through Felix's story and I want to make sure it is absolutely perfect (for both him and Sam, and for all of you).
In the meantime, I have Book 1 of my next series, Lords of Second Chances, coming out April 15, 2025. And I have a feeling many of you are going to be quite excited for who these stories will feature! Book 1: Madcap with a Marquess —featuring spitfire Franny, Lady Rutledge and her husband Lord Rutledge Book 2: Ruthless with a Rogue —featuring Livy and the 'only beds a woman once' Marquess of Dunmore Book 3: Downfall with a Duke —featuring the notorious Duke of Ironcrest
Ready for a childhood enemies to lovers, arranged marriage story? Preorder Madcap with a Marquess here .
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