Page 54 of Stolen By the Rakish Duke

Layer by layer, he bared her. The lamplight danced across her pale skin, highlighting the rise and fall of her chest. She did not shrink, did not avert her eyes. She looked at him squarely, and in her gaze was a raw honesty that unraveled him more than any seduction ever could.

“You are exquisite,” he said, his voice low, unguarded, impossible to ignore.

Her cheeks flamed, but she held his gaze. “You need not flatter me, husband.”

“I do need to,” he insisted, brushing a thumb across her cheek. “I need to, for it’s the truth, wife.”

Her lips quivered, a faint smile curving them, and she pressed herself closer, tasting the truth of his words, letting the heat inside her bloom and spread.

He lingered, brushing a fingertip along her jaw, his gaze dark and amused. “Tell me,” he murmured, “what would theMysterious Earldo next?”

Beatrice froze, a faint laugh escaping her lips despite the flutter in her chest. “I… I don’t know,” she admitted, her cheeks flushing. “I’ve only ever read about it.”

“Only read about it?” Leo teased, leaning closer so his breath tickled her skin. “Then perhaps I must show you.”

Her pulse quickened at the suggestion, at the intimacy of his words. A shiver ran through her, equal parts anticipation and uncertainty. She parted her lips, searching for an answer, direction, but found none.

She had never done this before. She didn’t know what to expect.

“Do you wish to tell me?” he asked softly, tilting her chin up. “Whatyouwant me to do?”

Her breath caught, and she shook her head almost imperceptibly. “I… I don’t know,” she whispered shakily.

“Then I shall guide you,” he murmured, pressing a gentle kiss to the curve of her neck.

His lips were warm, insistent, and she felt the weight of his hands on her, steady and reassuring. The trust and heat between them coiled tighter, and Beatrice let herself melt into it, her fingers tangling in his hair.

When at last he lowered his mouth to the soft heat between her thighs, her gasp filled the chamber, mingling with the roar of the storm outside. She clutched the sheets, then his shoulders, caught between disbelief and desire.

“Leo—” Her voice broke, breathless, pleading.

His tongue circled her drenched bud, and she moaned loudly, unable to gather her wits before he pressed closer to lap more deeply inside her.

Her nerves sizzled and burned with explosive fury as he opened her and reignited her with each clever stroke of his tongue. The blinding fever of her ecstasy had returned with full force as he relentlessly tantalized and teased her.

“That’s it,” he murmured against her, the vibration coaxing a cry from her lips. “Let go, Beatrice. Give it to me.”

She did. A cry, muffled against her hand, escaped as waves of ecstasy consumed her. Her body trembled, her thighs clenched around his head, and her fingers tangled in his hair.

He lingered, patient and unhurried, drawing out her pleasure until she sagged against the mattress, spent and breathless.

When he finally lifted his head, she caught him licking his lips, his eyes dark with triumph.

Her gaze met his, dazed but lucid. “I did not know,” she whispered.

He stretched beside her, propping himself on one elbow and brushing a damp strand of hair from her face. “What did you not know?”

“That it could be like this,” she admitted, her voice raw with wonder. “That it could feel… so good.”

His chest rose and fell in a slow, steady rhythm that seemed to echo inside her. “Then I am honored to help you in that discovery,” he murmured.

She laughed softly, almost shyly, but her hand slid over him, pulling him closer. Pressing her face to his chest, she let her heat seep into him.

“My little fireplace,” he breathed, half awed, half dazed.

“You’re an iceberg,” she replied softly, tightening her hold on him. “But I’ll fix that.”

He let out a low, muffled laugh into her hair.