Page 61 of The Duke With the Dragon Tattoo

Driven by twenty years of pent-up need, he backed heragainst the nearest wall, lifting her so her weight wouldn’t rest on her ankle.

She might be slight, and delicate, but he had enough strength for them both. She never had to worry about that. He would bear the brunt of any cruelty. He’d shield her from pain. He’d fulfill her every whim.

All she’d have to do was endure him. Was that too much to ask?

Probably.

He swallowed her exhale of astonishment, fusing their mouths, their bodies. The blood danced in his veins when her arms slid around him. His frame went taut with triumph when she timidly kissed him back.

He folded over her. Into her. Curled around her as if she were the last bit of warmth in a world of ice and terror and deprivation. Even his joy became its own kind of torment. This was both everything and not enough. He needed to claim her. To crawl out of himself and to sink into her. He was like a pilgrim kneeling before a holy relic, desperate for a miracle. Praying for the touch of a deity. For the love of his goddess. Had he a soul, he’d have offered it to her.

But he didn’t.

Not anymore.

All else he possessed was hers. His money. His body. What was left of his life.

Didn’t she know that? How could he make her understand?

He would show her. Like this. He would drain every last gasp of carnal bliss from her lungs. He would worship her with his hands, with his mouth, until she begged him to stop. He’d deny himself his own fulfillment until she came to him. Until she was as desperate for him to be inside her as he was.

Reaching down, he parted her legs so he could get closer, cursing every single layer of her skirt, her undergarments, and even the air that took up the space between them. He drove his hips against the silk of her skirts, sex against sex, frustrated by the barrier, but aroused by her soft hiss of breath and the tremble he felt roll through her limbs.

The first of many, he vowed.

“Can you feel a whisper of what I can give you?” he asked, rolling against her again, knowing he abraded the sweet little nub with each flex of his hips.

“Y-yes… but I…” Her fingers became claws on his shoulders, as though she feared falling.

I’ll not let you go.He kissed the corners of her mouth, her chin, and dragged his lips over the downy skin of her throat, stopping to nibble at the pulse he found leaping there.I’ll never let you go.

“Are you wet for me?” he demanded in a harsh whisper.

It took her three tries to swallow. “I—I’m…” She lost her words when he bit at her earlobe.

“Let me make you slick and slippery,” he urged.

“Make… what?”

“Let me make you writhe. And beg. And scream. I will exhaust you with ecstasy. You will come apart in my hands, beneath my mouth.”

“Please, just…” She gasped on a shuddering breath. The words, combined with her slight squirming against his nude, aroused body threatened to drive him beyond all control.

His shirt, already enormous on her slight frame, had come lose in their clench, and his composure slipped in time with the collar as it drifted down her bare, pale shoulder. His lips followed the seam, exploring the softness of her skin on an expedition toward her breast. All he had todo was expose it, taste it—but in order to do that, he’d have to cease his soft thrusts against her core.

“Wait,” she groaned, tugging at his hair. “I’m going to…”

Was she going to come already? He hadn’t even started yet.

“I meant what I said,” he crooned against her skin. “My body is yours, to use as you will. I will be a slave only to your desires. What do you want me to do?”

“Stop,” she sobbed.

He froze, pulling away to gaze down at her, and saw the panic in her eyes. Her skin flushed from pink to pale in the course of a stunned breath, and a sheen of sweat bloomed at her hairline and over her lip.

“Lorelai?” He carefully lowered her to the ground, his arousal turning to alarm as she frantically pushed him away with feeble trembling limbs. “Lorelai, are you hurt?”

She shook her head, but her eyes clouded, her movements almost inebriated. “I’m sorry,” she mumbled, reaching out for the edge of the tub, for something to stabilize herself upon.