Who Wants to Marry a Duke - Sabrina Jeffries Page 0,67
her belly to cup her privates below—“to this pouting beauty. Look in the mirror. I want you to see what I see.”
The mirror? She glanced around and realized that the two of them were perfectly captured in the looking glass opposite her bed. Part of her wondered if that was his purpose, if he’d brought other women here for this.
Part of her just reveled in his expression of pure, savage need as he rubbed the nipple of one breast while using the fingers on his other hand to arouse her below. Merely seeing him caressing her made her slick and wet.
“When do I get my turn?” she asked. “I want to see you naked, too.” She was curious about the thickening bulge in his trousers that she’d only had a few minutes to fondle the last time they were this intimate.
“Oh, God, yes,” he rasped.
He kicked off his slippers, then stood to unbutton his trousers and drawers before shoving them off along with his stockings.
“There,” he said as he stood before her with his hands resting impudently on his hips. “Look your fill. But don’t take too long, or I’ll embarrass myself.”
She didn’t know how he could possibly do that, given that he was already standing naked before her, but it was most enlightening to see him in his full glory. The line drawing of David had a much smaller, much tamer bundle of a man’s privates.
Thorn’s thick rod of flesh thrusting boldly toward her from a nest of dark hair, with large ballocks hanging down, was another thing entirely. He was no statue for certain.
She swallowed hard. That thing of his was supposed to go inside her, the way his finger and his tongue had?
Dear Lord.
She reached out to touch it, and it twitched as if it had a mind of its own. Thorn caught her hand. “Not now, sweeting, or I won’t be able to do this right, I swear.”
“There’s a right way and a wrong way?”
“Yes. Sort of.” He moved closer. “Lie down, Olivia, and I’ll show you the right way.” He added, under his breath, “Assuming I can survive that long.”
So she did as he bade, and the next thing she knew he was kneeling between her legs and looming over her.
“You’re sure that you want this?” he asked.
“How can I be sure if I’ve never done it?”
He groaned. “I can stop now before anything happens, if that’s what you want.”
Too much had already happened. She refused to go back. “Don’t stop,” she whispered.
“Thank God,” he said hoarsely, then pressed the tip of his . . . his member inside her and began to inch his way farther in.
At first it was maddening. It didn’t seem to fit at all.
He must have thought the same thing. “You’re so tight, sweeting. So warm and wet and tight.”
“Are you certain this is the right way?”
“Oh, yes, trust me,” he choked out. “It’s as right as it can be . . . for me. But I don’t imagine the first time . . . feels wonderful to a virgin. I’ll try to make . . . it better for you.”
Grabbing a pillow, he then lifted her hips enough to get it under her. She wasn’t sure why, but the change in position did improve matters.
“Better?” he growled.
She nodded. She couldn’t speak, consumed by the sensation of having him so intimately joined to her. He seemed to grow bigger inside her the farther he went. But then he reached down to rub the hard knot that seemed to hold all her enjoyable sensations, and like a dam bursting, pleasure flooded her.
With a gasp, she arched against his finger, while he began to pull out, then thrust in, over and over in an exquisite, unfamiliar rhythm. This was out of her realm of experience, and all she could do was clasp the well-wrought arms that held him above her and pray he took her with him to wherever he was going.
Because he was definitely going somewhere, what with his muscles straining and his face flushing. Now she began to feel as if she too was going somewhere. His quickening strokes drubbed that knot of pleasure even more, and his eyes burned into hers with such intensity that she was soon gasping and sighing and arching up to meet his thrusts, eager for every delicious feeling searing its way through her.
“Ah, my . . . lovely dear. You’re killing me. You feel . . . so damned good.”