“I’d win,” she said.
She’d obviously found her confidence again. He liked that it was back.
“You can go whenever you want,” he said, releasing her wrists. She made a sound of disappointment that turned into a sound of interest as he slid to his knees before her. “You can stop me with a word.” He put his hands under her skirts and felt her ankles. Then he ruched up the skirts, leaning forward to kiss her calves, her knees, and her thighs as he did. “But I don’t think you want me to stop.” He nudged her legs apart. She wore drawers with a generous slit, and he was able to kiss her inner thighs, just above her knee. Her skin was so soft there, so tender and silky. One of her hands came to rest on his head, threaded through his hair. The other grasped at her skirts and pulled them to her waist.
Duncan reached higher and found the waistband of the drawers and tugged them down. They dropped to her ankles, and he helped her step out of them. Before she could close her legs, he put his hand between them and nudged them open. “Wider,” he said, his breath tickling her inner thigh.
She opened them wider, and he kissed up and up. As he neared the juncture of her thighs, the hem of her skirts brushed his forehead. “Lift your skirt,” he said.
“You think you can give me orders?” she said, a challenge in her voice. Duncan decided it was good that he liked a challenge. No matter how much Lucy might like what he was doing, she wouldn’t make it easy for him. He took one hand and skated up her thigh, under her skirts until he found the heat of her sex. He cupped her, stroked gently, then inserted one finger into her wetness. As he’d expected, she was very, very wet. He slid inside her easily, the heat of her surrounding his finger until he withdrew it and eased two inside. She was tight, but the clench of her inner muscles told him she liked this. He slid out again, rubbed his thumb against his fingers to dampen it, then entered her again, slowly, crooking the fingers once inside and circling. His thumb pressed against her clitoris, and he moved his thumb in circles to match the rhythm of his fingers over that small nub.
Lucy let out a moan of pleasure and widened her legs without being asked. He rewarded her by tapping his thumb against her, then sweeping across her now swollen bud.
“Duncan,” she breathed.
God, how long had he dreamed about hearing her say his name like that? How many times had he imagined what it would be like to touch her, slip inside her, give her pleasure?
“Lift your skirts,” he said, his breath on her thighs.
She pulled them up without protest. Duncan wished he had more light. He wanted to see her. Instead, he slipped his fingers out and pressed into the soft hair between her legs with his mouth. He moved down until he found her opening then parted her with his fingers, stuck out his tongue and licked.
She jerked. “Oh, God!”
“Mhm,” he murmured against her, letting his tongue explore until he found that sensitive part of her. She tasted intoxicating enough that he knew he would crave her every moment he wasn’t between her legs. She did not smell like cinnamon here but had a unique scent that was hers alone. He’d have that scent on his hands and his lips. He wanted it everywhere.
His tongue slicked over her lazily then came back with slightly more pressure. She moaned, her legs tensing. He repeated it once, twice, but when he felt her muscles tighten in expectation of the third time, he paused and swirled his tongue around her. She made a sound of exquisite pleasure that made him groan. His cock was hard in spite of the pain it caused. But what man wouldn’t harden hearing the sounds she made?
He flicked his tongue over her, side to side then front to back. She panted and cried out and the hand in his hair tightened. “Yes,” she said. “Please. I’m almost there.”
He could feel that she was almost there, and he wouldn’t make it that easy. She did, after all, like a challenge. He slowed the strokes of his tongue, ignoring the insistent thrusting of her hips, and dipped inside her. Lucy’s hand in his hair was hurting him, but he didn’t mind the pain. It reminded him that in that moment, she needed him. He was all she could focus on. His tongue slid in and out then explored her lazily.
Her hips bucked, and he knew what she wanted. Knew prolonging the pleasure would make it better. “Patience,” he murmured.
She said something no lady should ever say, and he smiled. But he gave her what she wanted too. His tongue lashed at her swollen nub.
“Oh, oh,oh,” she cried. Thank God they were away from the Pembroke Lodge because she would have woken the entire household.
He flicked his tongue against her, and she tensed. That was when he slipped those fingers inside her again, crooked them, and pressed. He felt the spasm of her orgasm against his fingers. Her muscles clenched around him then released, then tightened, then released.
She was silent, but that only meant she wasn’t capable of speech in that moment. Finally, her inner muscles released his fingers and she murmured, “Oh, my God.”
She began to slump, and he withdrew and caught her, pulling her down to the floor gently. She leaned against him, her breath coming short. Duncan hesitated only a moment before he did what he’d been wanting to do for over a year—he pulled her into his arms.
