Chapter 20 #2
Leo held her securely against him. One hand snatched a towel, and he wrapped it around her with practiced efficiency, the warmth of the fabric a small comfort against the cool air of the chamber.
“Your bed or mine?” he asked, his eyes dark with desire.
“Whichever is closer.”
He kicked open the door to his bedchamber, crossing to the massive four-poster bed in three strides. The towel fell away as he laid her on the silk coverlet, and then he was kneeling between her thighs, his gaze hungry as it swept over her.
“I need to taste you again,” he said roughly. “Need to feel you come on my tongue before I bury myself inside you.”
Heat flooded Beatrice’s core. “Yes,” she breathed. “Please, yes—”
His mouth found her, hot and demanding. Beatrice cried out, her hands fisting in his damp hair as pleasure crashed through her. He worked her with single-minded focus, his tongue circling that sensitive bundle of nerves before dipping lower, tasting her deeply.
The pleasure built higher, sharper. Beatrice’s hips bucked, seeking more pressure as the tension coiled tighter in her belly. Leo’s hands gripped her thighs, holding her open as he devoured her, each stroke of his tongue pushing her closer to the edge.
“Leo—oh God, I can’t—”
“Let go,” he commanded against her flesh. “Come for me, Beatrice.”
His words undid her. Pleasure exploded through her, white-hot and all-consuming. She moaned his name as her body convulsed, wave after wave of sensation crashing over her.
Leo gentled his touch, drawing out her release until she collapsed against the pillows, trembling and breathless.
“Beautiful,” he murmured, pressing kisses to her inner thighs. “You’re so damn beautiful when you come apart for me.”
Through the haze of pleasure, Beatrice felt him moving between her thighs. The blunt head of his manhood pressed against her entrance, and reality crashed back.
“Wait,” she gasped.
He stilled immediately, concern contorting his expression. “Am I hurting you?”
“No. I just—” She reached up, cupping his face. “Look at me. I want to watch you as you do it.”
Something raw flashed in his eyes. “You undo me completely,” he rasped. “You know that, don’t you?”
“Then let me see it.” She pulled him down for a kiss, tasting herself on his lips. “Let me see all of you.”
He groaned into her mouth as his hips pressed forward. Beatrice gasped at the stretch, the burn of him entering her. He moved slowly, giving her time to adjust, his jaw clenched with restraint.
“Breathe,” he murmured against her lips. “Just breathe, darling.”
She did, focusing on the feel of him filling her, stretching her. The initial burn gave way to a delicious fullness, a sense of wholeness she had never imagined.
“More,” she whispered. “Leo, I need—”
He surged forward, burying himself inside her to the hilt. They both gasped at the feel of their bodies joined so intimately.
“God,” he breathed. “Beatrice, you feel—”
She rocked her hips experimentally. Pleasure sparked through her at the friction, the slide of him inside her. Leo groaned, his control visibly fraying.
“Are you trying to turn me into a savage, little minx?” he growled.
Beatrice mewled as her inner walls clenched around him.
“Move,” she begged. “Please, Leo. I need you to move.”
“You siren,” he moaned, withdrawing slowly before plunging back.
The rhythm built gradually, each thrust deeper than the last. Beatrice wrapped her legs around his waist, changing the angle, and pleasure exploded through her.
“There,” she gasped, already overwhelmed with the sensations coursing through her. “Right there…”
Leo braced himself above her, his powerful body moving with increasing urgency. The tendons in his neck stood out, his jaw clenched as he fought for control. But his eyes never left hers, dark and fierce with something that looked almost like worship.
“You’re mine,” he growled, punctuating the words with a particularly deep thrust. “Say it, Beatrice. Say you’re mine.”
She was too lost in the pleasure, too consumed by him, that she did not think anything of his demand. In fact, she did feel like his at that moment.
How could she not, when he was all she could feel? When she was so full of him?
“Yours,” she gasped, her walls clenching around his length as if in concurrence. “Leo, I’m yours.”
The words seemed to break something inside him. His rhythm turned frantic, each thrust driving her higher. Beatrice clung to his shoulders, her nails digging into his skin as tension coiled tighter in her belly.
“Come for me,” he commanded. “Let me feel you come around me.”
His thumb found that sensitive bundle of nerves, circling with perfect pressure. The slide of him inside her, the focused attention on her pleasure, overwhelmed her. The tension snapped like a bowstring, pleasure exploding through her with devastating force.
She cried out his name, her walls clamping down on him. Leo groaned, his hips stuttering as her release triggered his own. She felt him pulse inside her and a warm liquid fill her, which made her melt even more.
He collapsed against her, careful to keep most of his weight on his elbows. “Beatrice,” he murmured against her neck. “My God, Beatrice—”
She held him close, running her fingers through his damp hair. “I know,” she whispered. “I know.”
They lay tangled together as their breathing slowed and reality gradually reasserted itself. Leo rolled onto his side, pulling her with him so they lay face to face.
“I should probably say something,” he murmured.
“You don’t need to.” Beatrice pressed her fingers to his lips. “Unless you want to say that you liked it.”
The look Leo fixed her with made her nipples pebble almost at once.
“Liked it?” he echoed, his voice dangerously low as he caught her hand and pressed a kiss to her palm. “My beautiful Duchess, I already want to do it again.”
Her heart stuttered and picked up speed at the stark desire in his eyes. It was just as naked as they were. “Leo—”
“Now, about the agreement we had, the one where we’d live separate lives once Philip was found?”
“Yes?” Beatrice murmured.
“I have several amendments to propose.” His hand skimmed down her side, reigniting the embers of desire. “Starting with you never sleeping in a separate bed again.”
“That seems reasonable.”
“And you’re to stop calling me ‘Your Grace’ when we’re alone. It’s Leo. Just Leo.”
“Oh, I think we’re way past that now.” She smiled, pulling him closer. “Leo,” she whispered.
She didn’t quite expect the possessive way her tongue wrapped around his name, but it seemed to undo him completely.
“Damn,” he groaned, and she felt his manhood stiffen against her stomach almost immediately. “Open for me, my siren, for I must have you again.”
Beatrice started to laugh, but the sound caught in her throat when his fingers found her nether lips and parted them.
She gasped, her legs falling open a little wider to accommodate him. And when she felt him press against her entrance again, she knew that she would be getting any sleep that night.