The Haunting of a Duke(45)

His gaze roamed over her, reverently, reveling in her lush curves. Greedy for more, he lowered his head to take the pink, furled tip of one breast into his mouth. She moaned, and writhed beneath him as he laved the taut bud with his tongue, alternately sucking and nibbling at her turgid flesh. There was no hesitation, no question as she parted her legs and invited his touch. He swept his tongue inside her mouth, where it tangled with hers, before flattening his palm over the soft mound of her femininity, cupping her possessively. He traced the delicate folds, wet with her desire, until she cried out, clutching him. He swept his thumb over the tiny pearl, flicking, caressing again and again.

He was in an agony of desire. He slipped a second finger inside her, marveling at how exquisitely tight she was. He wanted nothing more than to slide his aching member into the welcoming heat of her body, but he hesitated. He didn't want to cause her more pain than was necessary, but he was unable to deny himself any longer.

He settled himself between her parted thighs, the head of his erection nudging the slick folds of her cleft. “It will hurt,” he said, “but only this once, and only for a moment."

She nodded, and opened herself more fully. The pain didn't matter, and even with the pleasures he had shown her, she knew there was much more. She felt empty and hollow, her body crying out for him. She wanted to feel him inside her, to be filled by him.

The effort required to be gentle was Herculean for him, as he parted the honeyed folds of her sex and pressed his hips forward, sliding partially into her. He struggled for control, for some semblance of the self-discipline that he prided himself on. His breathing was ragged, as he struggled with the need to bury himself in the enveloping heat, to drive deeply into the welcoming warmth of her sex.

Emme shuddered as her flesh burned, stretching to accommodate him. It was such a foreign sensation and so different from the pleasure of his skillful hands and wicked mouth. Slowly the discomfort abated, leaving only a feeling of fullness and an urge to move against him, to explore the curious sensations. He felt thick and hot inside her and instinctively she knew that there was much more.

Rhys held his weight on his forearms, his forehead pressed against hers as he waited for her to relax and to ease his passage. He eased in further, relishing the feel of her sheath clenching around him. He moved his hips in a series of light, gentle thrusts, creating a delicious friction that had her lifting her hips toward him, her legs coming up to wrap about his hips. She melted around him, and each thrust went slightly deeper until he could feel the barrier of her innocence.

He whispered an apology against her cheek and then took her lips in a fierce kiss as he thrust deeply, breaching her maidenhead. He wanted to lose himself inside her, to thrust into her moist heat again and again, but with sheer force of will he managed to control his urges, and held himself rigid inside her as he waited for her to relax beneath him.

Emme didn't cry out, though she had bit her lip at the unexpected pain. She had been warned, of course, but the reality surpassed what she had expected. She knew that he was struggling, that he was trying to be gentle. She forced herself to relax, to accept the invasion. She was aware of him inside her, filling her, his flesh mingling with her own. She knew that the worst was over, but the intense pleasure he had given her earlier seemed far way. Disappointment was blossoming inside her, taking root, but then he moved.

The anticipated pain did not materialize. Instead, there was a deep coiling of pleasure. Each small movement of his hips, as he withdrew from her, only to press deeper again built on that pleasure, until it was overwhelming in intensity. She closed her eyes, her neck arched and her head thrown back in pleasure.

His lips pressed against her neck, his teeth scraping lightly as he quickened his pace, thrusting harder and deeper. Her nails dug into his shoulders as she gasped and shuddered around him. She found the rhythm and began to meet his thrusts, lifting her hips to welcome him.

When her hands slid down his back to his taut buttocks and pressed him more deeply inside her, he lost his battle with restraint. His control snapped and he drove deeply inside her, losing himself in her soft heat.

Knowing he would not last much longer, he brought his hand between them, touching her where their bodies joined, each caress sending her closer and closer to the precipice. Her hips flexed instinctively, arching upward to meet his thrusts as his skilled fingers played over her.

With the first spasm of her orgasm, as the muscles of her sheath rippled around him, clenching tightly, he could no longer wait. He thrust deeply, as the tension coiled within him. He withdrew and thrust again, and was lost. He groaned, pressing his face into the crook of her neck. He shuddered with pleasure as he spilled his seed deep inside her.