Deepest Desires of a Wicked Duke(96)

Oh! All that yearning need and now it hurt. It wasn’t fair. Gently, he kissed her. “There might be some pain. It won’t last long. Then I’ll make it good for you. That I can do.”

She knew he could. She was certain of it.

The blunt pressure of his penis trying to go in was rather arousing. She moved her hips, somehow realizing she should. With her rocking and Julian slowly moving his groin, gently pressing into her, his cock slid in farther.

There was pain—a sharp, irritating shock of it. Why should she feel pain? Why should women?

Her fingernails gouged in. She couldn’t help it. “Julian.” It came out like a squeak.

“Sin. Call me Sin. I hate that name—Julian. It belonged to a young man I hate.”

She wanted to know why, but his hips moved forward.

His thick cock slid in. Her toes curled. Her eyes almost rolled back in her head. So intense! He was in her. They were joined in the most intimate way. If she’d had a barrier, it was gone now.

Portia needed to be close to him. She wrapped her arms around his neck. “I want your body against mine. Everywhere.”

He did as she wanted, lying on top of her. But still he held his weight. His chest squished her breasts lightly, his hard belly pressed to her softer one. His body had settled between her legs, stretching her thighs. And his cock was buried deep.

Then he started to thrust.

Oh, she’d had no idea. She’d seen people making love, she’d heard their cries. Now she knew why they screamed.

This was—

Delightful. Heavenly. Perfect. Sweetness and sin together.

She hooked her leg over his, pinning him to her. She moved her hips as much as she could, lifting to meet his thrusts. Slow and gentle thrusts. But getting stronger, harder, more demanding. Each smack of his hips teased her clit, sending shudders of exquisite sensation through her. So strong, she moaned and had to bury her face in his chest to muffle the desperate sounds.

As if he was losing control too, he nuzzled her neck hungrily. Kissed her lips in hot, fast, passionate kisses. His tongue teased hers, mimicking the magic thrusts inside her.

His hands slid down and he cupped her bottom and lifted her tight. His groin rubbed her clit. He was thrusting so hard into her.

“Yes,” she cried. She reached down and gripped his arse. Felt the flex of the rock-solid muscles with the rocking of his hips. Sweat trickled off him, hit her lips, and she swept it off with her tongue. Salty. His.

“Bang me senseless,” she gasped. “Bang into me so hard you shake the bed.”

She was totally out of control. A wanton creature, moving with him. Wet with perspiration and slick with their juices. Hot and flushed.

He moved his hands again to brace himself. And he pounded so hard the bed did shake. He moved her whole body on the bed. It was too much—

No, it was perfect. Perfect—

The orgasm swept over her like a storm wave striking the island. She was awash in it. Her arms flailed. She slapped his buttocks. Buried her mouth into his shoulder. Oh God, she bit him.

She held him tight.

Then he groaned. His mouth tightened and his eyes shut. Pure agony sketched across his face. “Portia.”

His hips bumped hers; then he shoved them forward, burying himself as deep as possible. She felt hot inside. A sudden flood of heat as he shuddered above her. He stopped moving and stayed on top of her. He pressed his face into the crook of her neck, gasping for breath.

A jerk of his hips withdrew his cock. A flow of hot fluid came out too.

And she knew at once what it was. His seed.

Huskily, he said, his mouth almost touching her lips, “You’re mine, Portia. This marks you as mine. No other man is going to touch you. My come makes you mine now. Forever.”





20

Portia was dying with curiosity, but she couldn’t make herself say the words. She was simply too shy to say: What do you mean your come makes me yours?

She made two attempts to speak the words. Each time, she looked into his eyes and all that came out of her mouth was a sound like, “Gah-ha.”

She was no longer an utter innocent, but she was still too shy.

Sin rolled on his back. Portia hadn’t liked that nickname for him, because she didn’t like thinking of him as sinful. But sinful had proven to be a lot of fun. And it was the name he preferred. She’d never known that “Julian” made him think of bad memories. She wished he’d told her back then.

Grasping her around the waist, he lifted her easily and planted her naked body right on top of his. Her tummy pressed against his cock—which was wet, sticky, and growing hard again. “Goodness, you’re aroused again.”

“Having you naked on top of me does that to me, Portia, even though I just had the most intense climax of my life.”