She did as he asked, wriggling her hips and shoulders, revealing her bare torso to his greedy gaze. Fuck, she was perfect, with curves exactly where he liked them. His hands shook as he reached for her, his sanity slipping. “If I do something you don’t like, tell me and I’ll stop. All right?”
She nodded, but that wasn’t enough. “The words, Violet. Tell me you understand.”
“I understand, Your Grace.”
She peeked at him through her lashes, shy but emphasizing his honorific, and he couldn’t bring himself to care. He fell on her like a man possessed, kissing her hard and deep, needing her like he’d never needed anyone before in his life.
Before the weight of that thought could bring him down, he moved to take the tip of her breast into his mouth, drawing deep. His hand cupped the supple flesh as he licked and sucked, loving the little whimpers she gave before he moved to the other breast to give it the same attention. Her nipples were thick, each surrounded by a large areola, and he adored the way they felt on his tongue. When she was writhing under him, moaning loudly, he pulled back to admire her. The suction from his mouth had caused her nipples to puff even more.
Jesus, everything about this girl was so damn arousing.
“You are absolutely gorgeous,” he muttered as his hands went to her drawers. “But you still have on far too much clothing.”
In a flash, he divested her of her drawers and stockings, marveling that she hadn’t yet shied from his touch or tried to cover herself. She seemed to want him every bit as much as he wanted her. Surely that wouldn’t last. It couldn’t.
It never did. His former duchess had proven that, hadn’t she?
So he would enjoy this with Violet while he could.
When she was naked, he sat on his haunches, marveling at the picture before him. Lush breasts, smooth skin, generous hips that would cushion his own perfectly . . . and her mons with its delicate triangle of hair. No man had explored there, and while Max knew he didn’t deserve to be the first, he was bastard enough not to refuse it.
“Spread your legs. Show me.”
Those pale thighs parted, revealing her pussy, and he couldn’t breathe. Goddamn beautiful. Arousal glistened on the petals, with more gathered around the entrance. He traced the soft flesh with a fingertip, relishing the slick her body produced for him. “Is all this for me?” She watched him with wide eyes as he brought the finger to his mouth and sucked the sweetness onto his tongue. “Oh, my darling girl. I fear I’ll never get enough of your taste.”
Dropping onto his stomach, he let his breath tease her until she started to squirm. Then he began licking her, gently at first, getting her used to the feel of a tongue between her legs. The taste was exquisite, tart and musky, and he felt like a fifteenth-century explorer on a voyage of discovery and delight into unchartered lands while she gasped and mewled beneath him. His cock leaked onto the carpet, the skin pulled so tight it hurt, and yet he somehow resisted the urge to hump the floor.
When his attentions focused directly on her clitoris, her entire body twitched. “Your Grace!”
He swirled his tongue over that swollen bud, loving it with his teeth and mouth, sucking and laving until she trembled. One of her hands found its way onto the back of his head, where she held him in place, fingers clutching his hair, and nothing made him prouder than his little mouse demanding her pleasure.
She was close, her body stretched like a bowstring, her chest pumping in a desperate plea for air. Max needed to feel her inexperienced walls clamp down, if not on his shaft, then on his finger. He carefully slid the tip of his smallest finger inside her cunt, and her slick walls sucked him inside as if starved. God, how he wished . . .
No. He could not even contemplate it.
Then it happened. Her thighs shook around his head, her cries ringing in his ears as she found her peak. The release went on and on, her body completely his in that moment, and the satisfaction he experienced as she climaxed on his tongue was incomparable.
When she relaxed, he removed his finger and continued to lick her, softer, relishing the additional wetness that now pooled at her entrance. So responsive, so delicious . . . he longed to do this until sunrise. But his bollocks were tight, almost painful, with the need for his own release. He feared he would spend on the carpets if he waited another moment.
Rising onto his knees, he took his cock in hand and stroked, admiring her luscious form the entire time. Christ, she was beautiful. “Play with your breasts,” he ordered, little electric shocks of lust shooting through his groin. “Pinch your nipples.”
Her hands crept to her tits, cupping them as if offering them up to him. Then she squeezed the tips, her mouth rounding in surprise, as if she’d never touched them so intimately before. Her innocence—not to mention her willingness to do as he said without question—drove him positively wild. “More,” he grunted, his hand moving faster along his shaft.
She watched his hand, seeming fascinated, as she rolled and tweaked her nipples, her tongue swiping across her lower lip. Was she thinking of sucking on him again? Swallowing his spend down her throat? God, the idea of it . . .
“Fuck,” he gasped, sensation overtaking him, heat sizzling along nerve endings, and spend erupted from the top of his cock to land on her stomach. He clutched her thigh to steady himself, his tight fist milking all the pleasure from his body while his limbs jerked and twitched. “So good, so damn good,” he gritted through clenched teeth. He couldn’t remember the last time he came this intensely, as if his entire body were being wrung inside out in pleasure.
Each blissful pulse washed over him, renewing and reenergizing, breathing new life into his old and tired brain. He never wanted this feeling to end.
Yet it soon did. His faculties returned slowly, and with them came the dawning horror as to how low he’d sunk.
I’ve debauched her. Touched her when I hadn’t the right.
Taken another innocent girl and horrified her with my base ways, just like Rebecca.
He hung his head, unable to look at her. What had he done?
Chapter Five
“This was a mistake.”
Ravensthorpe’s words, combined with the remorse stamped on his features, had Violet’s stomach churning. This had been the best night of her life. She could not allow him to destroy what had happened between them with recriminations.
Yes, she’d come here in the hopes of seducing him, but she hadn’t meant to trick him. Not really, anyway. While she may have tried to keep quiet at first, she hadn’t known the room would be so dark, that he wouldn’t see her face until . . . well, until it was too late. He’d made it clear at the ball he desired her. She’d planned to come tonight and give him a small nudge, to talk to him in private and convince him to give them a chance.
Of course, she hadn’t realized Ravensthorpe would begin orchestrating a seductive play the moment she walked through the door. Not that she was complaining. The man merely had to open his mouth and she was at the ready, waiting like a good little soldier to follow his instructions.
And he believed this was a mistake?
Coming up on her elbows, she said, “I don’t regret any of it. I’d do it again, in fact.”
The duke dragged a hand down his face. “Violet, you cannot possibly—”