Chapter 16
Whispered Praise
He leaned in slowly, his eyes pinned on hers as he descended. He made no effort to hide either his intention or the tension coiled inside him. He allowed her to see in his eyes that insatiable need that she woke in him. If that wouldn’t scare her, then Gerald knew that he could do more.
He finally reached her lips. Not even a breath of air could pass between them, even if they were not touching, not yet. Arabella looked up, her beautiful neck craned so she could look upon his face, and that left her sensitive, delicate skin vulnerable, enticing.
He closed the little distance left between them. He told his mind and ordered his body to take this as slowly as possible. Though the rest of him remained rigid with restraint, his lips decided to declare independence and express what Gerald truly felt.
The moment his lips passed over her own, any semblance of propriety was now void. Even that little feather touch, one look at her lustful eyes, and his control was almost shattered. His fingers went into the black silk of her hair, and that feel spurred him more.
He leaned, and the kiss deepened. He demanded once more access, just to feel that velvety tongue of hers, taste her taste.
One swipe of his tongue over hers, one skillful flick, and he couldn’t stop himself.
He devoured her, his mouth slanted over hers, his tongue tangling with hers in a frantic rhythm. He broke the kiss, breathing heavily.
“Tell me to stop, Arabella. For Heaven’s sake, tell me to stay away.”
Instead of answering, Arabella rose on her toes and fisted the fabric of his shirt, her body flush against his. She said nothing, but she didn’t need to.
“Your Grace, you truly are the mistress of the house.” He smirked.
He dipped his head and took her lips again. He then swept her up in his arms. Arabella broke the kiss to squeal in surprise, but he captured her lips again as he lowered himself down on the comfortable sofa with her over his lap.
He abandoned her lips only to nibble on her jaw, and then further down to her neck, biting and licking, kissing with open-mouth kisses, and simply breathing over her skin.
Arabella was so captivated by his attention that she couldn’t control her body. She fell back, only to be captured by his other hand. He slowly made his way down her neck, and when he reached her collarbone, he found the great obstacle of clothes.
As he grazed over her collarbone with his lips, he wouldn’t allow her silk nightgown to obstruct him from seeing what his imagination had been forming ever since he first saw her.
Gerald dipped lower and caught the ribbon that held the nightgown with his teeth.
He looked up only to find Arabella studying him, stunned and fascinated at the same time. And he pulled the ribbon.
The nightgown fell open, revealing the top of her breasts, making his mouth water, his body starved. His fingers found her shoulders, and he pushed the gentle fabric off, baring her to him. Arabella inhaled sharply and held her breath.
“Breathe for me, Arabella,” he murmured as he moved slowly over her breast.
Arabella let out the breath that she didn’t know she was holding.
“Very good,” he praised.
Her composure was short-lived. As those words left his mouth, Arabella lost her breath completely. Gerald paused when he realized that his Duchess enjoyed hearing him talk to her with that tone. Perhaps he should reward her more. The tip of his tongue reached a taut nipple and flicked.
“Gerald!”
Her reaction was almost violent as she lost complete command of her body.
Her one hand flew up to her mouth to silence the moan that slipped out.
Gerald was not ready to allow this to happen.
If Arabella wanted to scream his name, he should be able to hear it.
Softly, she moved and took her hand away from her mouth.
“I want to hear you say my name,” he said, teasing with his tongue once more.
He saw her bite down on her lip hard, disobeying him. He was going to allow it because she looked devastatingly beautiful like this. After all, he could find other ways to make her scream out loud.
He turned his attention to her breasts, and now he used his lips to capture that ready peak between them. And still, Arabella kept her mouth stubbornly closed, even as her hand went into his hair. If she was trying to push him away, she was failing completely because she pulled him closer.
Gerald didn’t need any more encouragement. He took her nipple into his mouth, sucking softly till finally he heard what he craved.
“Gerald!”
“Like this, it’s perfect, Arabella. You’re doing such a good job for me.”
She whimpered and shook on his lap, making him instantly realize how much he wanted her, how he craved her and desired her. But he had made a promise to himself to slowly introduce her to what desire truly was.
One hand tightening behind her back, anchoring on her waist to support her, he kept going, leaning to her other freed breast, waiting, wanting. He cupped it with his free hand, feeling the weight that filled his palm with her soft, seductive flesh.
Arabella shifted slightly in his lap, and the small movement drew a low breath from him.
“Don’t move, Arabella,” he ordered, barely containing himself.
She instantly stopped squirming on his lap. Gerald smirked over her skin. He decided that such good behavior needed some kind of reward.
He let his tongue lick around her nipple, slowly, teasing, but not giving in yet. He looked up at Arabella’s face, all to see her eyes hazed with lust, her teeth torturing her lower lip, her cheeks pink and flushed. He took the nipple in his mouth and sucked harder than before.
“Oh!” Arabella sighed.
It was a tough test for his control, seeing her completely surrender to him, hearing her little moans, his name spilling out of her mouth with such needy breath.
“You are doing so well,” he cooed.
The way Arabella trembled in his arms sent a spark of wicked satisfaction through him. The decision that he made tonight, to savor rather than claim, might be the most difficult of his entire life, and also the most delicious.
He kept his kisses scattered everywhere, from the soft curves of her breasts to her elegant collarbone, up the smoothness of her neck, just to reach that spot behind her ear that made her cry out.
And at the same time, his hand roamed lower, over her stomach that fluttered at his touch, and then rested softly on one thigh. With quiet patience, he pulled her a little closer, parting her legs only slightly.
He studied her face to see the reaction there, any sign of discomfort.
Arabella felt his gaze and turned to meet his eyes.
The moment he saw those baby-blue eyes, he knew that he would barely survive that night.
They were wide and darker, conquered by the sensations rippling through her body.
And if anything, she urged him to give her more.
“That’s it, Arabella,” he murmured over her lips. “You are doing so well.”
A tremor came over her, her eyes fluttering closed. Her lips parted, the lower one caught briefly between her teeth as she struggled to steady her breathing.
He needed to touch her, to feel how much she wanted this. He craved to show her how good he could make her feel, see her face and her body completely lost in his touch.
He shifted her on his lap softly, and his hand moved up her thigh.
Slowly, reverently. He could tell this was all new to her, and he didn’t want to scare her.
His hand made its way as his mouth took her lips into a searing kiss.
She responded immediately, her velvet tongue darting out to meet his, dwelling with his, twining.
For a moment, he forgot himself too and let his body enjoy every little sensation.
But then he remembered that he had a goal, and it was all focused on her. He pried her thighs open more, and his hand reached her core.
“Oh, Arabella!” he couldn’t stop the moan that escaped his mouth fast enough.
His Duchess was already wet and ready for him, blooming in her most hidden space. And she didn’t even know what she was doing to him with her kiss, her scent, and her body.
He dared more and caressed her folds, a feather touch at first to test her limits. She was here with him, his to touch. He could bide his time. He knew that he wouldn’t when a deep moan spilled from her mouth as her head lolled back, her eyes closed.
But what really almost undid him was the way she moved her body, desperately seeking more friction.
It seemed that his Duchess was as fiery in her passion as she was in everything else.
He was prepared to slow down and even stop, thinking this would be a blushing, timid lady.
But his Arabella was letting go in his arms completely, responding to his every touch.
“Look at you,” he said quietly, his voice rougher now. “So responsive, so brave.”
He watched how her eyelashes fluttered at his words, the delicate rise and fall of her breath hitching, her fingers digging into his arm as if to hold on to reality.
And then she turned and looked at him, her blues swimming in a sea of need, her cheeks flushed not from shame but lust. He could get lost in those eyes. He almost did when she opened her kiss-swollen lips and uttered a single word.
“Please.”
A primal groan erupted from deep within him.
She was begging him, even if she didn’t exactly know what it was she was pleading for.
He unleashed himself on her, dropping all pretense of restraint and slow pace.
He tightened his grip on her thighs, and his other hand tangled in her hair to pull her to him, angling her for a deep, wet, sloppy kiss.
When she moaned deeply and ground in need, he allowed his fingers to explore more.
He ran his fingers, getting slick with her own juices, before he caressed her.
Arabella trembled and broke the kiss to cry out at the sensation.
His mouth continued to devour her, behind her ear, down her neck, her breasts, while his fingers found the peak of her core, engorged and ready.
One touch, and Arabella almost flew off his lap.
He held her down, and his teeth grazed her neck.
His fingers rubbed over that peak, circling it.
“Oh! I…” she groaned.
“Stay with me,” he said, his voice low and rough with approval.
Her fingers dug into his arm almost painfully, trying to control what was left of her sanity. He didn’t give her much reprieve. His fingers moved around that bundle of nerves again and again, his mouth nibbling on her ear.
“That’s it, just like that.”
Her breath came in quick, uneven pulls now, her body shaking, rocking against his hand.
“You are doing so well, Arabella,” he whispered in her ear.
He tightened his grip in her hair and claimed her mouth once more in a frenzied open-mouth kiss, wicked and demanding. She responded immediately, matching his passion, his need. He rewarded her with his touch.
He focused totally on her peak, his fingers going over the spot that he saw she needed him the most, the angle that was just right to make her stomach constrict. He carried her through that sensation, his kiss relentless, his fingers deft and capable.
“Oh, I can’t…” she sobbed.
“You are doing so well,” he praised. “Breathe, Arabella.”
She inhaled and let out a deep moan, as he kept circling her, faster, more insistent. He felt the tide rising inside her. It was in her hazed look, the half-opened mouth, the way she shook uncontrollably, and how her fingers dug into his shoulder.
“Let go, Arabella,” he whispered in her ear, licking the skin there.
She snapped. Her body arched violently. He felt her core taken over by ripples of pleasure.
“Gerald!” she moaned.
To hear her call out for him in her moment of release was almost his undoing. He bit down on his lip to keep himself from taking her on her back on this sofa. Instead, he focused on her, his fingers slowing down but not stopping, bringing her down softly.
“Good girl,” he murmured in her ear. “Such a good girl.”
Arabella sobbed at his words, a needy, breathy sound that was poking holes in his control.
As he watched her come down from the high of her release, he realized something with dreadful certainty. Keeping his distance had been the plan. But plans, he now understood, were never prepared for Arabella. And neither, truly, had he.