On a Wild Duke Chase: The Wayward Woodvilles Book 2 Page 11

  "You taste so sweet," he growled. "I want to fuck you until you scream my name."

  A shiver stole over her body, and she clasped at the settee, fighting to keep herself grounded. "I could eat you every day."

  Isla moaned at his filthy discourse. She loved that he enjoyed her so. His tongue flicked her sensitive nubbin before sucking on it. She buckled against him, clasping his head at the wicked sensation that shot through her. "That feels so good, Duke."

  He moaned, eating her as if she were the only sustenance he would ever receive again, before he wrenched back, ripping at his front falls. Isla watched him but shook her head. "No, sit back," she said, straddling his waist and placing his hard manhood at her core. "I want to be in control for my first time. I'm going to tup you now, Duke," she said, not sure why she wanted to take charge. So many things between them had happened at his doing. She wanted this one time to be at her undertaking.

  "Fuck, Isla," he groaned, his hands squeezing her arse as he teased her cunny against his cock. "I don't want to hurt you. Your first time may be painful, sweetheart," he whispered, kissing her.

  "I do not care." She lifted, placing herself over his manhood. He was hard, the size of him making her question her reasoning for only a second before she started to lower herself. She took her time, reveling in the feel of him stretching, melding her in the most intimate of ways.

  She watched him, his blue eyes stormy with need. She leaned her forehead against his. Their breaths mingled as their bodies combined. His hands flexed, guided her onto him, and then they were one. For a moment, she did not move, allowing her body to adjust to this new and wonderful sensation and intimacy between them.

  "You make me want to come," he gasped when she moved a little, rolling her hips and testing out what she liked and disliked.

  She did not dislike much. Nothing, truth be told. She loved the feel of him in her. Isla shifted again, using her knees to stroke up and down on his cock. The sensation was nothing like she had ever felt before. He teased her in a new and wonderous manner. "I want to make you spend," she admitted, knowing that for such a long time, she wanted to be the only person who would be with him in such a way. He was hers, and she would never allow anyone to take what belonged to her.

  Just as she knew he would do the same.

  "I want so much," she gasped, holding the back of the settee as she rose and fell on his cock. He seemed to grow within her, harder and larger. The need within her spiked. He thrust up into her as she lowered on him. Over and over again, they fucked, and everything between them, all the hurt, the lies, the arguments fell away.

  This is what she wanted. This intimacy, this shared pleasure. His hands slipped up her back, holding her shoulders from behind and helping her come down on him. Hard.

  "Duke," she moaned, wrapping her arms around his neck. "Don't stop."

  "I won't, sweetheart." He increased his pace, her body mindless with pleasure. She could feel the build up within her. Her cunny thrummed with need. He pulled her closer, changing the angle of their joining, and she moaned, his every stroke sparking her to flame. "Duke," she screamed as she toppled over into a void of incandescent pleasure.

  Her body convulsed against his cock, draining him, taking all that it could while tremor after tremor shot through every pore, every fiber of her being.

  "I'm coming," he groaned, warmth flowing into her body.

  They sat for a time, entwined, their breathing labored. Duke met her eye, a wicked smile twisting his lips. "Are you in agreement with my rules, Isla?" he asked her, taking her in a kiss that left her breathless.

  She nodded nonsensically. Not quite sure she should agree to anything right at this moment since she still was not thinking clearly. But no matter what, this pleasure, this intimacy she could share with Duke, she knew she could not deny him that. No matter how angry she was at his means of gaining a wife. On this request, at least, they would agree.

  Chapter

  Eighteen

  The preparations for the wedding came together reasonably well over the next few weeks. Her mother took charge along with Hailey and Julia, who had come up with her father when he traveled to London.

  The nights were spent at various balls, and never before had Isla been invited out to so many dinners and musical nights. She knew it was because she would soon be Viscountess Leigh, but she did hope a little was because the ladies inviting her to their houses wished for a friendship not solely based on who she would be.

  She stood with Lord Leigh at the Davies ball, the Season now well on the way and almost half over. It had been a week since their interlude at his town house, and it had been a week where Isla had trouble concentrating on anything, nevertheless sleeping.

  Even now, with Duke towering over her from behind, all she could think about was his hands on her. When he would touch her again. Kiss her even. He had done none of those things, and it was starting to grate. They were to be married in any case. What did it matter if they continued their honeymoon early? She had already slept with him once.

  The feel of his finger making a circular pattern at the nape of her neck made her shiver. "Oh," she said, "have you decided to touch me again, my lord? I did not think I warranted another pet since you've been determined this past week to remain distant."

  A mocking chuckle sounded at her ear, and she clamped her jaw shut, hating that everything about the man now made her ache with need. His laugh, his smile, his heated glances that went nowhere.

  Damn him.

  Was he teasing her on purpose?

  She had been determined to remain angry with him forever, but she knew she could not. To stay cross took far too much energy, and she wanted to use that effort toward much more fulfilling, enjoyable pastimes.

  Like having Duke beneath her again so she could do whatever she wanted with him.

  "Are you missing my touch, my love?" he said. Her heart stilled at the word love. Did he mean it, or was it just a benign term of endearment? But she did miss his touch. Now that she had had it in full, she could not get enough of him.

  "What would you do if I said that I was?" she asked, meeting his gaze over her shoulder. His mouth twisted into a devious smile, and he stepped closer still, the hardness of his form pressing against her back. "There are things we can do. Places we could disappear to if you wish me to take care of any pressing desires that will not abate."

  The very thought of being with him again, of him kissing her, made her wet, and she squirmed, reaching behind her and taking his hand. She started off toward the closest exit. "Come then. Take care of me." Her words were bold, so unlike anything a lady ought to ask, but not her. She had always known to seek what she wanted. Maybe it was the gothic, adventurous, romantic books she read that gave her an unconventional mind, an open and more demanding one, but she would not apologize for it. She wanted him right now, and he would give her what she wanted.

  He could not say such things and not mean a word of it.

  Duke pulled her to a stop, his chuckle irking her partly. "We cannot leave together, Isla." He glanced about the room. "You leave by the main ballroom doors, head for the retiring room. I shall meet you before you reach your proposed destination."

  Isla nodded, expectation thrumming through her at being alone with him again. She headed for the ballroom doors, making her excuses to the few friends who waylaid her, and by the time she started along the upstairs passage toward the retiring room, she could feel Duke's eyes on her. But where was he?

  A figure stepped out from behind a curtained window. He flicked his head, telling her to join him without words, and she did without another thought. The moment she stepped into the small window alcove, he was on her. Taking her lips in a searing kiss. Heat and need spiked through her. So much need.

  Her legs shook as he turned her roughly, pinning her against the wall. He clasped her hands, placing them above her head, locking them there. "I noticed you like to take control, my love. But do you ever like to relinquish it?"

/>   She frowned, unsure what he meant, but she would let go of everything, her inhibitions, her fears so long as he gave her what she craved. "Yes,” she gasped when he reached down, dragging up the back of her gown.

  He undulated against her. His breath was warm against her ear, sending a shudder of desire to course through her. Her skin felt aflame, and only his touch could douse it. She pushed back against him, seeking, needing him with a hunger that was beyond reason.

  She heard a deep, gravelly growl at her movement. The buttons on his falls ripped open, his hand strong and guiding on her hip. Isla swallowed a moan as the tip of his cock teased her cunny. "Duke, please," she begged him, seeking his fulfillment as if her whole existence relied on it.

  "Isla," he sighed, thrusting into her. "You make me lose myself," he gasped into her neck, kissing and nipping it as he took her from behind. His hand came up about her neck, arching her back. "I love fucking you. I have wanted you this past week like I required air. Do not ever think that I do not want you, no matter where we are," he whispered in her ear.

  She hummed, loving his words. His hand slipped up her jaw, and he played with her lips with his thumb. "So damn beautiful. Do you know what I want to do with your pretty mouth?" he whispered, his relentless taking of her making her head spin. She clutched at his hand above her on the wall, holding hers, keeping herself from pooling into a puddle of desire at his feet.

  "What?" she managed to answer, needing to know.

  He growled, slipping two fingers into her mouth. She suckled on them, the salty taste of his skin making her want more. "Your mouth would look good around my cock."

  "Mmmm," she agreed, the thought of doing such a thing now all that she wanted. He pulled his fingers out of her mouth, clasping her hip and angling her in the way that sent her wits to spiral. Her climax hit her without warning, and she buckled against him, thrust back on his cock, and took what her body craved. Her mindless gasps muffled by his kiss.

  He pulled out, turning her to face him. Isla lay her hands on his shoulders, wanting him still. "I long to be your husband, Isla," he said, meeting her gaze, his burning with need.

  She knew he had not come, and she now also knew she would not leave this alcove without doing what she wanted. She pushed his chest, and he stumbled up against the wall at his back. She kissed her way down his neck, feeling the taut muscles of his abdomen.

  Isla kneeled before him, taking in the sight of his manhood, hard and glistening before her. "What do you want me to do with it?" she asked, looking up and meeting his burning-hot gaze. Her body thrummed with expectation at the way he looked at her. As if he wanted to eat her alive in the most delicious way.

  "Suck it," he demanded.

  She clasped the base of his penis, and it jumped. She smiled, kissing the tip of his cock when a bead of pearl-colored liquid settled there. It was salty, but she liked it. With her tongue, she licked the underside of his manhood, eliciting a moan of pure ecstasy from Duke, and she was lost.

  "Oh, I will," she said before taking him fully into her mouth.

  * * *

  Duke closed his eyes and prayed for redemption. He shouldn't have his cock in his betrothed's mouth at a ball in the middle of London, but also, there was no way in hell he would be pulling out anytime soon.

  Her tongue teased its way down his cock before she took him fully into her mouth. He groaned, wanting to clasp her hair, hold her against him and fuck her mouth until he came, but he did not. He allowed the sensation of her sucking him, teasing him with her tongue to lead him on a slow dance to climax.

  She was a fast learner, clasping his balls. Her other hand stroked his cock with wicked intent. Her impressive lips locked about his dick with a force that left him reeling. He would come, and soon. He would spend every bit of his pleasure into her willing mouth and enjoy every moment of it.

  "Suck me, my love," he breathed, easing farther down her throat. She hummed in agreement, and the vibration was too much. He came, pumping his seed into her mouth like a green lad who could not last. She drank him greedily down, and he could not believe what had happened. How had he been so fortunate to be betrothed to such a spirited, passionate woman? She took his breath away in more ways than one, and he thanked God he had traveled to Lord Billington's estate and had met her.

  Fallen in love with her…

  The realization struck him, and he pulled her up to stand, staring at her with new, fresh eyes. He was in love with her, of that he could not deny. She smiled at him, a rosy hue kissing her cheeks. He pinned back a curl that had come loose and checked that her gown was all in place. "Isla, what just happened?" he started, trying to find the words.

  She placed a finger against his lips, silencing him. "I loved every moment of it. I only wish that you had shown me sooner how much fun there was to be had behind curtains at balls. Lord Billington's house party might have been a lot more interesting if you had."

  He chuckled, pulling her against him. He kissed the top of her head, content to simply hold her. "The moment you tripped on Lord Billington's staircase and landed at my feet, I knew that you would be mine one day. And soon you will be."

  She nodded, but the smile on her face slipped a little at his words. She did not believe him. He knew why, but he would make up to her his shortcomings. He would show her with all the years they would be married that he loved and adored her and that she would want for nothing.

  "We should return to the ball before we're missed," she said.

  He glanced out from the curtain and, seeing the corridor empty, pulled Isla forward. "I will follow in a little while. I shall see you downstairs."

  She slipped past him without another word, and he watched her go, the pit of his stomach churning with the lies that still sat between them. His lies that he knew he had to tell her before they were married. He could not marry her without telling her of his mother, of Bedlam, and the rumors that would swirl about London regarding his family's mental stability without giving her a choice to be part of that. He had already taken so much from her. He knew now to marry her and then tell her the truth would be the end of whatever was building between them, and he did not want that.

  Even if that meant that he lost the woman he had fallen in love with and the security a marriage to Isla would bring his viscountcy.

  If she did not want to marry a man with a mother who had lived half her life in Bedlam, he would have to let her go.

  Chapter

  Nineteen

  Isla woke late the following day after arriving home in the wee hours of the morning. A knock sounded on her door, and she lifted her head, not at all ready to start a new day, when her mama bustled into the room.

  “Isla darling, Lord Leigh is here, and he’s pacing the library floor. He’s asked to speak to you.”

  She sat up at the mention of Duke being here. Was there something wrong? Had something happened since they parted last evening? She hopped out of bed, her maid Molly helping her dress, who had followed close on her mama’s heels.

  “Did he say what he is here for?” she asked, picking the light-purple morning gown before reaching for a matching ribbon and tying her hair back.

  “You cannot go downstairs with your hair in such a way. You look positively wild.”

  “I look like a woman who’s been pulled out of bed before I wished to by a man who’s about to be my husband.” Isla went up to her mama, kissing her cheek. “He shall see me in my unmentionables soon enough, mama. I think this is perfectly fine.”

  Her mama’s eyes widened in shock, and she gasped. Isla chuckled and slipped past her, heading for the library.

  The moment she stepped into the room, she was wrenched into Duke’s arms. He kissed her, taking her lips in an almost desperate way that left her reeling. She wrapped her arms tight about his neck, letting him have his fill of her.

  Warmth spread through her at the notion that mayhap he had missed her overnight. That there could be more to their marriage than simply a means to avoid a scan
dal after being caught together alone. That there could be a chance that her marriage could turn into a union of affection, maybe even love. Not just his love for her money.

  Isla pulled back, grinning. “What was that kiss for, my lord? We only parted,” she said, glancing at the clock on the mantle, “four hours ago.”

  He wrapped his arm about her waist and walked her to the settee. “I needed to speak to you. See you. Tonight was too many hours away.”

  They sat on the settee, and he took her hand, meeting her eye. “We’re to be married soon, and I wanted to speak to you alone. Your mama allowed it, but there are some things that you need to know about me, Isla.”

  More things than she already knew? What else had he not told her? She sat back, a chill running down her spine. “There is more that you need to tell me about your life?” she asked, her stomach rioting.

  Duke swallowed, a sheen of sweat beaded on his brow. “No, I merely meant that I wanted to discuss that although our marriage came about by unconventional means, that does not mean that I do not want to make our marriage a happy one. I know I do not want to spend my life miserable, and well, after last evening, we do seem to get along very well.”

  Isla moved closer, needing to touch him. She laid her hand on his leg and felt him jump at her touch. “I enjoyed last evening too.” She ran her hand along his thigh until she skimmed the hardness in his pants.

  She felt herself grow wet and needy for him, her cunny aching with renewed want. A muscle worked in his jaw as she pressed harder, stroking his manhood until it bulged against his falls. “I want you even now, Duke,” she admitted.

  He clasped her jaw, kissing her hard. A moan passed his lips as she tightened her hold on his phallus. “We could be caught at any moment. Your father could return to use his library.”

  “Don’t you want me?” she teased, pouting for good measure. She knew he did. And from the size of his manhood, he wanted her just as much as she did him. Isla ached, needing him to make her feel as wonderful as he had last evening. She straddled his lap, and he shook his head.