“Touch me, damn it,” she said hoarsely, her need far too great for niceties. “Your thumb on my clitoris. Your finger inside me. Hurry.”
With agonizing slowness, his hand moved closer to her throbbing center, tormenting her further when the backs of his fingers smoothed the crisp bush of hair between her legs, yet delved no deeper. Just when she was ready to beg, one fingertip parted the hair and lightly stroked the tender, petal-soft flesh beneath.
Delilah moaned.
“You are very wet, Mrs. Forbes,” he murmured. “Do you need to come?”
Pure excitement jolted through her body. With her hands on his shoulders for balance in the moving carriage, her thighs spread wide by his legs, she was near helpless. In fact, it felt like she was held upright only by the big hand on her hip, and those questing fingertips teasing her pussy. “Please.”
“Not yet.”
Not yet?
She almost unleashed a frustrated wail, her breathing ragged as Tunbury continued to stroke her under her gown, his brow furrowed in concentration as he explored by touch alone. Perversely though, it only aroused her more knowing that he controlled their play and would decide when she orgasmed.
With more willpower than she thought possible, Delilah held herself rigid, not giving in to the tremendous temptation to grind against his hand and obtain the reward so tantalizingly close. Her virgin duke was learning. But oh, how difficult it was. Each time his thumb nudged her clitoris she gasped, pushed a little further toward the cliff edge of ecstasy.
“Now?” she pleaded, as his fingertip found the entrance to her pussy, slicking itself in her wetness.
Tunbury didn’t reply. Instead, that blunt finger pushed inside her, penetrating deeply, and Delilah muffled a cry of delight in the crook of her arm so it wasn’t heard by the driver or footmen. Overcome with need, she began circling her hips and rocking against his hand. He took pity on her and permitted the use of it for her own pleasure, cupping her mound firmly while his thumb pressed against her clitoris. But when he added a second finger to her pussy and pumped them in and out, the storm that had been building exploded at last into waves of exquisite sensation.
Delilah fell forward and burrowed her face in his neck as she surrendered to the violent orgasm, her inner walls pulsing around his fingers. How long they stayed like that she couldn’t say, but when he carefully removed his hand from between her legs, she mewled in protest.
“I must,” said Tunbury, caressing her hip as though to soothe. “We cannot be far from the Temple now, and closed carriage curtains in the afternoon will only invite gossip.”
“Yes,” she agreed, rising from the solid warmth of him with great reluctance, and settling herself back on the opposite seat. When all the curtains were pulled, Delilah smoothed her gown and patted her hair. “But what about you?”
The duke cleared his throat. “Entirely your decision, Mrs. Forbes. I can exchange my clerkish costume for my own clothing and be on my way. Or, if you have the time and inclination, you could invite me to your bedchamber so I might undertake further educational exploration. Kiss you between your legs and taste the musky honey that smells so good. I know what it’s like to have my fingers inside your wet warmth when you come, but I’d like the same for my cock.”
“My wet warmth? Do you mean my pussy, Your Grace?”
“Ah. You wish me to use explicit slang terms. I’m afraid I don’t know many.”
“Could you say pussy?” Delilah whispered, yearning to hear blunt sexual words from his refined, aristocratic mouth. “And tell me exactly how we’ll fuck?”
Tunbury nodded as he adjusted the huge bulge between his legs. “There are two options, Delilah. The first is I change clothing and depart. The second, we retire to your bedchamber and…I kiss your pussy until you come in my mouth. As to how we’ll fuck…it won’t be gentle I’m afraid, but rough and hard and deep. The way I’ve been dreaming about since we met.”
“Option two. Please,” she replied, quivering and unashamed to beg. “Don’t make me wait anymore, Ben. I need it. Please.”
He stilled at the name, then his eyes glittered like stars.
“Very well.”
Chapter 5
Never before had Bennett felt like this, such a primitive, feverish need to conquer.
After years of anxiety and confusion about his desires, to discover they weren’t wrong or shameful but most welcome with the right lover, was quite frankly life-changing. When he’d held Delilah in his arms and learned to make her come in the carriage, sheer triumph had surged through him. But to then have the freedom to use long-forbidden words, and know the exultation of hearing his name as a needy plea…hell. Magical. Yet now he’d had a taste, he wanted it all. To see her naked before him, a banquet for his senses, to plunder that soaking wet pussy with tongue and cock.
Somehow Bennett managed to perform the tasks of a gentleman; climbing out of Delilah’s carriage first, turning, and offering his hand. “Mrs. Forbes.”
She shuddered, the movement causing her pelisse to part briefly and reveal the imprint of taut nipples against her gown bodice as she descended the carriage step. Something else he needed to see, her bare breasts. What color would her nipples be when he undressed her? Palest pink? Rose? And what color after he’d sucked them? There were far too many questions requiring answers, and he wouldn’t countenance any delays. Neither would Delilah it seemed, as her heels near-skidded across the entrance hall to keep up with his longer stride, each intent on reaching the stairs that led to the second floor.
“My bedchamber is next to the parlor,” she said quietly, waving maids and footmen away as they hurried up the stairs. “There is a connecting door. I clean it myself…none of my staff are permitted there. I like to have a room that is mine alone.”
Bennett hesitated momentarily. “Our purchases…”
“My footmen will bring them inside. They’ll be quite safe. Unlike your virtue.”
He didn’t laugh, instead pressing her briefly against the hallway wall to rub his straining erection between her legs. “You think to tease me, madam?”
“Hurry,” she said, with a soft moan. “Please hurry.”
Wordlessly they continued on, through her private parlor and dressing room. Delilah then withdrew a key from her reticule and unlocked the door. Her bedchamber was sumptuous; cream silk walls, a large four-poster bed hung with dark blue velvet curtains, a sturdy embroidered chaise beside the smoldering fire, and to his surprise, a partially screened off bathing area in one corner, complete with a permanent marble tub that looked large enough for two.
So modern and luxurious!
While she stoked the fire until it blazed and eased the chill in the chamber, Bennett discarded his borrowed scarf, cap, and jacket, and his own shoes and stockings. Soon after, Delilah took off her own shoes, and unbuttoned her woolen pelisse.
“Would you help me with my gown?”
“Of course.”
Fortunately for his inexperienced fingers, her gown had only three buttons at the nape. She ruthlessly tugged the fabric down, before kicking away her petticoat. Smiling to himself, Bennett took his time with her stays, even though they were laced with a fine silken cord rather than ribbon and were easy to loosen. That garment, too, along with her stockings, ended up on the floor, and she turned to face him clad only in an ankle-length linen chemise.