Chapter Nine #2
“Why not? I wish to know how much you can take before you beg me.” When something soft and fluffy went over her nipples, the foreign sensations left her gasping. “Let’s see how you enjoy an ostrich feather.”
“Good heavens.” That lighter than air touch would drive her mad before too long.
He continued to guide the feather along her skin: nipples, between her breasts, the inside of her thighs.
“When did you discover you enjoyed restraining partners as part of your need for control?”
“At some point during the war, when I was home on leave. Those times were bleak. I required something to serve as a distraction, and bringing women to pleasure was just that.”
“And you’ve already said you care not about gossip or scandal.” She could hardly force out the words, for her throat was tight with the urge to moan, to cry out.
He snorted and tossed the feather away. Clearly, he was distracted. “I do not. I am a simple man at heart, and I don’t like unfinished business—in women or everything else.”
How very odd. To what did he refer? “Have you ever let a woman restrain you? Pleasure you beyond the bounds of what’s proper?” Would she have the nerve?
“Ha. I have not, but this is not the time for conversation.” He cupped her breasts, squeezed them, brushed his palms over her sensitive nipples, and when she moaned, she felt rather than saw him grin.
More was the pity.
“Do you want to?”
For long moments, he was quiet. “That depends on many things.” Over and over, he continued to tease her nipples, her breasts with his fingers, tongue, and teeth. Each time she squirmed and tugged at her bonds, he chuckled. “There is so much I wish to do to you.”
“I’m not stopping you,” she managed to choke out on a whisper.
“Indeed, you’re not.” While he took one nipple into the warmth of his mouth, he rolled and twisted the other one.
Wild sensation streaked through her body.
Need throbbed between her thighs and she shook from his ministrations.
“Ooh…” The second he sucked hard at the bud, her back arched and she bucked her hips.
He lightly pinched the other one, and the pain-tipped pleasure lanced straight into her core, sent her close to that edge already.
“Will you come merely from nipple stimulation?” There was so much delight in his voice, she tossed her head as her pulse pounded. “Let us explore deeper.”
Merciful heavens. Surely, she would expire from his constant teasing.
When she restlessly moved her legs, he chuckled and then straddled her knees, further rendering her immobile and helpless in his care.
It left her far too vulnerable. Once, Marklesfield had knocked her to the ground, put a boot on her back.
It had been terrifying. “Michael, please.” She forced a swallow into her suddenly dry throat. “I need to know you won’t harm me.”
“I will not, but I do adore it when you beg.” Instead of returning to her nipples, he drew the tips of his fingers up and down the insides of her arms. Gooseflesh raced over her skin; her nipples tightened into hard points. “There is much I want to share with you.”
“Only in the physical?”
“No.” But he didn’t expand on the subject.
As he leaned over her, the hard tip of his member poked at the apex of her thighs.
Slowly, he dragged his lips beneath the underside of her jaw, drew them down the column of her neck, then just as slowly, as if he had all the time in the world, he licked a path around first one nipple, followed closely by the other.
Her breathing hitched and she arched her back, but his weight on her legs prevented much movement.
The dratted duke blew on her damp nipples, and the change in temperature enhanced her need.
The air in the room chilled her but the heat of his mouth chased it away.
The never-ending cycle stole her ability to breathe, but when he returned his fingers to those buds—twisted, rolled, and caressed the flesh—the throbbing between her thighs grew more pronounced.
“Oh, dear heavens!” Once more, her back tried to arch, for the feelings were exquisite, but he wouldn’t let up with his teasing.
She pulled at her bonds, needed to touch him but couldn’t.
Anything to either stop his play or finish it.
Evangeline’s head thrashed on the pillows, and still he worked her nipples, drawing out the torture but flinging her closer and closer to that shimmering edge.
“I… Michael!” With a cry of relief, her body stiffened, and she gave herself over to the wave of hot pleasure that swept through her form.
“That was only the first of a few tonight, but damn, the next time, I want to hear you scream,” he whispered before he claimed her lips in a searing kiss that captured her senses and had her head spinning.
“Remove the blindfold so I can see you and the restraints so I can touch you.” Barely had her body stopped shaking from being sent flying than the duke moved down her body, kissing and licking.
“Not yet.”
“Why?” With her breath in pants, she widened her legs to give him greater access, bending them at the knee. The weight of him, the heat of him all worked to keep her senses spiraling and her balancing on the edge of yet another release.
“I’m not nearly done playing your body.”
When he kissed a path to her abdomen, he paused. “Tell me where to touch you, Evvie. Teach me what you like.”
“Go between my thighs.” She tugged on her restraints, but the knotted silk held.
“Gladly. He layered himself over her and slipped a hand between her quivering thighs. Her husband teased the button at her center out of hiding, proceeded to worry it with the pad of his thumb.
“I thought you couldn’t use your right hand?” It was a way to distract herself from what he did to her.
“It has limited movement, and I can’t pick up anything heavy, which vexes me, for I’d like to throw you over my shoulder.
” And he kept on with his mission. When she bucked into his hand with a slight cry, he chuckled.
As he applied various degrees of friction to that nubbin, he inserted a finger into her passage, which caused her back to arch.
“But the fingers operate well enough most of the time.”
“Michael… Oh, goodness…” Soon after, he added a second finger, he thrust those digits in and out of her passage, working her over as if he had nothing else to do that night.
Perhaps he didn’t, and she’d never had such concentration from a man on her before, a man who wished to give her pleasure merely because he could.
It was quite heady, indeed. The steady sound of rain drummed in her ears, and with every pump of his fingers, she moved her hips to match the rhythm he set.
“You are gorgeous laid out for me like this,” he whispered with his lips against the side of her neck. “It makes the horrid times a bit more palatable.”
“Agreed. You are doing well in making me forget the ills Marklesfield did me.” When he massaged that place deep inside her, rubbed the pads of those fingers against a spot on her inner wall, she nearly bucked off the mattress. “Oh!” Whatever he was doing, it would soon separate her from her mind.
“Come for me again, Evvie,” he whispered with his lips hovering over a nipple. “Come hard so I can see you in all your glory. Scream your satisfaction to the heavens.”
“It glimmers just out of reach…”
“My request wasn’t a suggestion.” A hint of command rang in his voice. Withdrawing from her passage, he concentrated the whole of his efforts on worrying that tiny bundle of nerves at her center. “The sooner you shatter for me, the sooner I can fuck you properly.”
The use of vulgarity oddly had need skittering through her lower belly as pressure stacked and tightened inside.
“I… I…” She writhed beneath him. “So close.” Evangeline pulled at her bonds, but the knots held steady; he’d done his work all too well, and damn his eyes, for being helpless only enhanced the sensations rolling over her.
As the rain continued, the fresh, clean scent of it mixed with the raw smell of man and the faint notes of his shaving soap.
She gasped for breath, strained at the bonds, and when he licked and nibbled her nipples while bedeviling that nubbin, she thought she might expire right there.
Tears fell to her cheeks, for it was too big, too much, too all-consuming.
Never until she’d met him had she experienced something only for her. “I need you inside me.”
“I know.” He claimed her lips in a forceful kiss, sucked her tongue into his mouth before releasing it and slowing the friction on that tiny bundle of nerves between her thighs. “Show me with your body how much you want me.” Again, he blew on her nipples where moisture from his tongue lingered.
Surely, she wouldn’t survive the night. “I…” Gooseflesh popped on her skin. Her moan sounded beyond desperate. “It remains elusive.”
“Mmm.” Her husband continued to worry that slick nubbin. “As she whimpered with need, he rubbed his fingers along that sensitive bundle of nerves, faster and faster, harder and harder. “Say you only need me.”
“I need you, Darkemore!” Evangeline sobbed, for would that sentiment remain? Tears fell to her cheeks, for she couldn’t survive his onslaught. Trembles racked her body, but she couldn’t quite grasp that shimmering ring of bliss.
“Fall, damn it. Tumble over that edge.” A note of desperate authority rang in his voice. “I want to see your face when you shatter.”
And he continued to play between her legs, his tongue and teeth on her nipple, the weight of him against her. When she arched her back, her hip crashed into his rampant length, and he hissed out a moan. Her head thrashed on the pillows as she strained at her bonds. “Touch me. Harder.”
The duke pinched the slippery pearl and at the same time, he rolled one of her nipples, hard, just as she’d requested.