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Page 10 of Tantalizing the Duke

His muscles tensed beneath her hand. “And so you’re satisfied with what this is between us? An exploration of our mutual… interests? You know I have no intention of growing attached.”

“How often does a girl have a duke to herself for the night? I’m certain you’ll satisfy me.” She relished the awkward moment her directness left him, saw how the gears of his mind ticked behind his calm façade.

His reply was clipped, as if spoken against his better judgment. “One night. Just tonight. The plan hasn’t changed to find a man to marry you.”

“Good,” she replied, triumphant. She had him now, she knew it. She rose on her toes and sealed her mouth to his, a bold promise that she intended to make good on. Her tongue teased against his lips, and when she pressed him with her own intensity, the self-assured man’s walls crumbled and left nothing but fire in their wake.

The kiss was a lovely surprise, feeling how quickly his resistance broke and the passion beneath it flooded to meet hers. In one swift motion, he caught her up and cupped her face, framing her features as if they were too precious to be left to chance. His mouth moved against hers with a hunger that melted the distance he’d been trying to keep. She felt the pull at her hair, deft fingers releasing pins and letting her dark waves spill loose around her shoulders.

“Ah, Milly,” he said, her name low on his breath, more desire than caution. The last of his defenses fell in his urgency to have her.

Her laugh was quiet, triumphant, rich. She wound her arms behind his head and clung to him, aware that he was already losing himself in the exchange. A playful ache of wanting made her press even closer, letting herself revel in the hot press of his mouth, the possessive heat of his hands. His need gave way to her own, and she felt the raw edge of satisfaction in the way he touched her.

He nuzzled her neck, trailing kisses as he went. “Perhaps it’s your spontaneity that overwhelms me.”

Her lips, almost grazing his ear, formed the words she knew would drive him wild. “Then allow me to do the overwhelming.”

He exhaled a short, needy breath that thrilled her. When he swept his hand to the small of her back and crushed her to him, she pushed against him in turn, daring him to keep up with her own barely restrained want. “Dainsfield, you are quite slow for an athlete.”

As he tangled fingers in her hair, his mouth swept across her chest, and the layers that covered her were no match for the urgency of his movements. He pulled her dress low, baring her breasts, as Milly surrendered to the insistent play of his mouth and his touch.

He suddenly straightened. “This won’t do.” He swept her into his arms and strode out of the room toward the stairs. He took the steps as if she weighed nothing, her breasts bouncing freely, and nearly flew down the hallway.

The door to Dainsfield’s bedchamber swung open when he backed into it. Inside, a fire crackled in the hearth, its golden light supplemented by strategically placed candles that cast the room in a warm, flickering glow. The massive bed dominated the space, its dark mahogany posts rising like sentinels, the midnight blue coverings turned down by an efficient servant. He stopped before reaching it.

There was too much distance between them even as he held her, too much clothing, too much that might come between this moment and the next. Her fingers were in his hair, her legs around his hips, her mouth quick and desperate on his neck. He lowered her to stand but didn’t fully let her go, his hands busy with her gown.

She gave a soft cry as he pulled her bodice loose, a ragged whisper of his name when he caught her wrists and held her fast. Her eyes were half-closed with longing. Dainsfield lowered her gown and let it fall. Her chemise slid off her shoulder. He caught it with his teeth, then trailed his mouth lower, tasting her bare skin. She gasped and arched against him, bit her lip, found his mouth.

The sudden heat was almost more than she could take.

He freed her hands. She made quick work of his coat, her fingers eager and hungry. They fumbled, laughed, as they hindered each other more than helped. Then she made a small, triumphant sound. His waistcoat dropped to the floor, and his shirt followed.

“You are magnificent,” she gasped, pulling him closer, her body arching into his.

He wrestled free, kicking off his shoes and dropping his trousers and drawers. She realized she was holding her breath as each inch of his skin was revealed. Had she never seen him naked? She couldn’t recall. She’d always been more concerned with who was in front of her at the moment, who was inside her.

His thighs were thick with muscle, his hips narrow, and his erection was everything she could ask for. She reached for it, letting his hiss of pleasure go straight to her core. He was hard, the tip moist already, telling her how badly he wanted her.

And she needed him. All of him. She didn’t bother looking for the perfect place to love him. She lowered herself to the floor and opened her legs. “Please, Your Grace. Take me.”

His response was guttural as he stretched beside her. For a moment he only looked at her, every inch of her, from her breasts to her tummy and below where her fingers toyed with the dark curls above her thighs. She felt his gaze and felt beautiful in it.

Dainsfield cupped her nearest breast, squeezing gently, then pinching the nipple with more force. She purred and licked her lips. She’d waited so long for him to know her body, really know it and it was better than she’d dreamed possible.

His lips captured her nipple, and as he worked her breast with his tongue and mouth, his hand swept lower, finding her damp heat. A gasp escaped her and her legs parted of their own accord. She was ready for him, ready for whatever he wanted to do with her.

It felt like forever passed before his mouth replaced his fingers between her thighs. He shifted to lie between her legs, bending her knees to spread her wider. “Such a pretty cunny,” he uttered, one finger dipping into her moisture. He sucked that finger, then licked her from her arse to her throbbing nub.

“Oh, yes,” she purred at the sensation. Her hips rocked each time his tongue skimmed over her, and when it thrust inside, she cried out. “More!”

His moan was primal, his voice vibrating against her skin, adding to her pleasure. He continued to thrust into her, building a rhythm her hips matched. Her need built, fed by the touches his finger pressed on her nub.

“I need you inside,” she begged.

He took so long to respond, she wondered if he’d heard, but then he rose to his knees. His cock danced in front of him and she reached for it. He watched her stroke him, letting her play, before he bent and pressed himself against her opening.

When he thrust inside, she squealed her delight. “Oh, yes. Oh, God, you’re so big.” Milly bit her lip when she heard herself say that. It sounded like something a courtesan said to build her lover’s ego. She didn’t want this to be about egos and a man’s delicate pride. Dainsfield knew who he was and didn’t need her pretty words to help him finish.

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