Page 10 of The Earl’s Tempting Ward (Dukes Gone Dirty #2)

10

M ine forever.

Her breath rushed from her.

She knew what he was doing. He was trying to scare her off. Did he have any idea that those words made the longing inside her intensify a hundred times over? All it would take was one touch of his hand between her thighs for him to know just how much his words moved her.

He released her chin from his merciless grip and shifted to put one hand on either side of her, caging her beneath his scarred, muscled chest.

“If we do this,” he continued in a low rumble, “you will be mine to do whatever I want with. Mine to use. Mine to pleasure. Mine to discipline.”

He was trying to frighten her. A last-ditch effort. She could see it all so clearly, just like she could see him in the candlelight. He’d moved into the flickering glow and she could see in stark clarity the two sides of this man. The scarred half which was undeniably ugly. The way it twisted his mouth and pulled at his features made him look the beast that he clearly thought himself to be.

She reached a hand up to cup the scarred cheek, so at odds with the right side of his face which was everything noble and handsome.

He tensed beneath her touch but did not pull away. He let her touch him, and her heart seemed to trip in its racing.

“You’ll be mine,” he said again. A growl. A rumble she could feel low in her belly.

A promise that felt like the most binding vow.

His to command and his to discipline …

A lightness stole into her chest at his words. He thought to scare her. To warn her off and drive her away. She relaxed into the bed beneath her. She wasn’t frightened. She wasn’t sure he could ever frighten her. She’d seen too much of him beyond the scars and the temper. Instead, she felt something knotted and heavy uncoil within her at those possessive words, the threats and the commands. Something eased and relaxed, a weight taken off her that she hadn’t been able to see or put into words.

“Yes,” she said with a nod, her gaze colliding with his. “I’m yours.”

A flare of surprise lit his eyes, there and gone. For a second there was a tension between them. He was stiller than ever before as he hovered over top of her.

But then, like a wall crashing to the ground, his restraint gave way. He crushed his mouth to hers, capturing her lips in a bruising, ruthless kiss that made her moan and arch up to meet him.

This . Yes, this was what she wanted. To lose herself. To be swept away.

And not with gentle touches and sweet words, but with punishing kisses and rough, firm hands. Satisfaction exploded in her chest when he settled his weight over top of her. Hot and heavy, his chest had no softness about it, only the rough scrape of his scars. One of his thick, hair-covered thighs settled between hers and she let out a sharp exhale at the friction and heat between her legs.

She found her hips moving restlessly against his thigh as his tongue slid between her lips, invading her mouth. Claiming her lips.

That was what this was. A claiming. He was taking what she’d been teasing him with these past weeks. He was taking ownership and for the first time in a year, her mind was blissfully blank beneath this onslaught of her senses.

The heavy cloak of guilt and shame was replaced by the hard weight of him, the incessant demands of his mouth, his hands, his lower half which was grinding against her as she wriggled her hips for more.

His breeches were between them still but she could feel his hard shaft prodding against her sex. When it rubbed against that hard nub he’d led her to explore, she whimpered into his mouth.

He growled in response, slanting his mouth over hers as if he could devour her neediness. The stubble of his jaw was rough against her face, a scarred, calloused palm scraped against her skin as he cupped her neck and squeezed before grabbing the neckline of her nightdress and in one quick jerk, tore it down the middle.

He leaned back to see all that he’d exposed. Resting back on his haunches, her sex throbbed in agony at the loss of that hard heat and the tantalizing friction. Now she was cold and the loss of his heavy weight had thoughts flooding back into her brain.

Wicked, unholy girl.

She tossed her head from side to side and reached for him, pressing her palms to his searingly hot abdomen. He growled at the touch and reached for the tattered edges of the torn fabric, making short work of ripping it the rest of the way so she was spread bare beneath him.

Your dark soul belongs in hell. You’ll ruin yourself and destroy this family.

She squeezed her eyes shut as if that could wipe away her father’s voice. But the feel of Benedict’s large, rough hand clamping around her jaw had her eyes flying open.

“Eyes on me,” he said.

She swallowed hard, some part of her latching onto that commanding growl like it was a rope leading to her salvation. He held her head still as his gaze devoured her from head to toe.

She fought the urge to fidget with nerves and embarrassment.

No one had ever seen her like this, naked and vulnerable. But she did as he’d commanded and kept her eyes open. And when he glanced back up and his gaze met hers, she felt a satisfaction in obeying him.

“Good girl,” he murmured as he slid himself over her again, surprisingly graceful for such a large, muscled body.

His hand released her chin as he caged her beneath him. “Are you frightened?”

She shook her head quickly. “No.”

She knew what he meant. The way she’d squeezed her eyes shut before when he’d handled her body without tenderness.

Not harsh, though. Not cruel.

She shook her head again, her voice stronger. “No, I’m not scared of you.”

I’m scared of the monster I am inside.

His eyes held hers for a moment before he nodded. She thought maybe he’d even read her thoughts. He lowered his head, but rather than kiss her, his lips found the sensitive skin beneath her ear and he nuzzled her there, his hot breath making her shiver and pant.

He slid a palm over her left breast, pausing to tweak the nipple so hard it made her hips arch up with her gasp. She tried to keep him there, her hands gripping his hot, hard back muscles as she pressed her breast up for more, but he was sliding that rough palm over her belly and lower, lower…

She cried out when he found her heat.

Lustful, wanton little creature.

She pressed her face into the crook of his neck and his groan next to her ear made her shiver. His fingers were merciless and firm in their exploration of that wet heat between her folds. His thick fingers slid with sure strokes, flicking over that hard, sensitive nub and then lower, stopping to tease the edges of her channel, probing a little before sliding back up to rub that hard nub.

Her hips jerked beneath him as she clung to his shoulders. Her body was out of her control. It was his to command now, and she grinned at the thought as she opened her mouth to taste the salt on his skin.

A little lick of her tongue had him stilling, his breath hot and sharp against her ear.

She tried it again, this time nipping at the hot skin beneath her mouth until he groaned and pulled his head back to kiss her with such crushing force, it stole her breath.

When he began to push one finger inside her, she tensed at the intrusion, which was at once so good and so odd.

“So tight.” He must have felt her or heard her breath growing choppy as his finger probed deeper inside her, thick and demanding. “I don’t want to hurt you, love.”

“You won’t,” she panted. “You can’t, remember? I am no innocent.”

You’re nothing more than a dirty little whore.

She bit him again, harder this time, and with a growl he went back to devouring her mouth with a kiss that brooked no arguments. He removed his hand to unbutton his breeches and push them down, but all she knew was that she was cold and bereft except for the feel of his lips on hers.

She clung to that sensation, her fingers sliding into his hair to hold him closer. When her palm touched the left, scarred side of his face he stilled for a second.

She waited to see if he’d pull away or shove her hand aside, but with a shudder he relented, letting her touch him like he was touching her. As one hand shoved down his breeches, the other was greedily groping her breasts as if he couldn’t get enough of the feel of her flesh in his palm. Kneading and tugging on her nipples, he settled his weight beside her.

“Take me,” she whimpered when he pulled back. “Make me yours.”

“Spread your legs,” he commanded, his breath hot against her lips.

There was something crude about the demand and that made her sex throb painfully as she followed his orders, spreading her thighs wide and biting her lip as he pulled back to view her.

She looked down too, and spread wide as she was, she barely recognized herself in the moonlight. She truly was the wanton slattern her father thought her to be. Her sex was swollen and wet, the dark thatch of curls no longer hiding her from view.

“So wet,” he muttered. His large, calloused thumb swept over her nub at the apex of her folds, making her cry out at the sharp jolt of pleasure.

His lips tugged up in response, and his gaze was frighteningly hungry as he took in the bare breasts, the flat belly, and that wet, secret place between her thighs which glistened with her juices.

He wet his lips and the only sound in the room was their panting breath. She looked lower. She’d never seen his manhood, and she wanted to see it. “Can I…May I…”

Her voice was softer than she’d ever heard it and she shifted to reach for him. He pulled away out of reach, but his low chuckle warmed her and sent a trickle of new heat through her limbs.

“You want this, love?” He held himself in his hand and she tried not to let her shock show.

She failed if his next chuckle was anything to go by.

“Soon I’m going to have you touch me just like this.” He stroked the length in his hand and she watched with wide eyes as it swelled even further.

Her mouth went dry with nerves as her sex grew even wetter than before.

His gaze held hers with a dark promise. “Next time you talk back to me like a little brat, I’m going to have you suck this until you’ve learned how to be a good girl, hmm?”

Heat speared her from the inside out, making her inner muscles clench and her back arch. “Yes,” she hissed.

That was exactly what she wanted. How did he know? She could picture it so clearly it hurt. His hands rough in her hair as he slid that thick shaft between her lips with his gruff voice and coarse commands.

Her hips came off the bed. “Please, my lord. Let me taste you.”

His growl was a low rumble. “My naughty girl.”

She moaned with desire. Those words were so wrong, but on his lips they sounded like an endearment. They were a balm, an encouragement.

Yes, she was naughty. Wicked. Maybe even evil.

And he wanted her for it.

“You want this inside you, pet?” he asked as he stroked himself harder and faster, his voice a taunt and a tease. He leaned down and kissed her lower belly, making her muscles clench and flutter.

“Yes,” she whispered, ignoring the niggle of fear that the sight of his erection had caused.

He was big. So very big. And he seemed to be getting ever bigger with each new stroke. Her inner thigh muscles made as if to clamp shut when he shifted, but she fought the urge to protect herself.

She reached down again, her fingers itching to touch him, to stroke him like he was doing. But more than that, her sex was throbbing for relief, her nipples were too tight and hard and they were aching to be crushed against his chest again, to rub against the wiry hair there.

She thrust her hips up like the wild wanton she was. “Make me yours,” she said again. This time she begged. She had no pride left, only need.

Make me forget. Make me powerless. Make me beg and cry and ?—

She gasped when his hard shaft found her entrance. She bit her lip when he nudged the tip inside of her as his weight came over top of her.

And despite her best efforts, she let out a scream of pain when he thrust himself inside of her.