Page 65 of Stolen By the Rakish Duke

“Your bed or mine?” he asked, his eyes dark with desire.

“Whichever is closer.”

He kicked open the door to his bedchamber, crossing to the massive four-poster bed in three strides. The towel fell away as he laid her on the silk coverlet, and then he was kneeling between her thighs, his gaze hungry as it swept over her.

“I need to taste you again,” he said roughly. “Need to feel you come on my tongue before I bury myself inside you.”

Heat flooded Beatrice’s core. “Yes,” she breathed. “Please, yes?—”

His mouth found her, hot and demanding. Beatrice cried out, her hands fisting in his damp hair as pleasure crashed through her. He worked her with single-minded focus, his tongue circling that sensitive bundle of nerves before dipping lower, tasting her deeply.

The pleasure built higher, sharper. Beatrice’s hips bucked, seeking more pressure as the tension coiled tighter in her belly. Leo’s hands gripped her thighs, holding her open as he devoured her, each stroke of his tongue pushing her closer to the edge.

“Leo—oh God, I can’t?—”

“Let go,” he commanded against her flesh. “Come for me, Beatrice.”

His words undid her. Pleasure exploded through her, white-hot and all-consuming. She moaned his name as her body convulsed, wave after wave of sensation crashing over her.

Leo gentled his touch, drawing out her release until she collapsed against the pillows, trembling and breathless.

“Beautiful,” he murmured, pressing kisses to her inner thighs. “You’re so damn beautiful when you come apart for me.”

Through the haze of pleasure, Beatrice felt him moving between her thighs. The blunt head of his manhood pressed against her entrance, and reality crashed back.

“Wait,” she gasped.

He stilled immediately, concern contorting his expression. “Am I hurting you?”

“No. I just—” She reached up, cupping his face. “Look at me. I want to watch you as you do it.”

Something raw flashed in his eyes. “You undo me completely,” he rasped. “You know that, don’t you?”

“Then let me see it.” She pulled him down for a kiss, tasting herself on his lips. “Let me see all of you.”

He groaned into her mouth as his hips pressed forward. Beatrice gasped at the stretch, the burn of him entering her. He moved slowly, giving her time to adjust, his jaw clenched with restraint.

“Breathe,” he murmured against her lips. “Just breathe, darling.”

She did, focusing on the feel of him filling her, stretching her. The initial burn gave way to a delicious fullness, a sense of wholeness she had never imagined.

“More,” she whispered. “Leo, I need?—”

He surged forward, burying himself inside her to the hilt. They both gasped at the feel of their bodies joined so intimately.

“God,” he breathed. “Beatrice, you feel?—”

She rocked her hips experimentally. Pleasure sparked through her at the friction, the slide of him inside her. Leo groaned, his control visibly fraying.

“Are you trying to turn me into a savage, little minx?” he growled.

Beatrice mewled as her inner walls clenched around him.

“Move,” she begged. “Please, Leo. I need you to move.”

“You siren,” he moaned, withdrawing slowly before plunging back.

The rhythm built gradually, each thrust deeper than the last. Beatrice wrapped her legs around his waist, changing the angle, and pleasure exploded through her.