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Authors: Sabrina York

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BOOK: Dark Duke
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“Aside from this.” He toyed with a skein of her hair. “How
many?”

“Oh, just the one.”

Relief gushed through him. He hadn’t realized the answer
would matter quite so much. Not until he heard
that
answer. One. Just
one. “He was probably doing it wrong.”

A funny look washed across her face. “Doing it wrong? Is
there a wrong way?”

“If your partner doesn’t like it, then yes, you’re doing it
wrong. I should be happy to show you the errors of his ways.”

She stared at him for a long moment. “Are you saying it
doesn’t have to…hurt?”

“Darling, I’m saying it
shouldn’t
hurt.” He corrected
himself. “It shouldn’t hurt like that. There are times when…other kinds of pain
can be quite…exciting.”

She nodded sagely. “Like when Asha got her spanking.”

Something very feral whipped through his gut. “Yes.” His
voice broke on the word. “Very much like that. But when a man makes love to a
woman, it should not be painful.”

She snorted again, this time very clearly.

“What?”

She waved at his groin. “You are far too large for it not to
be at least a bit painful.”

He preened. Just a little. “Why thank you. But the trick is
in making sure a woman’s body is prepared for a large cock.”

She shuddered at the word. In a good way. What a pity he was
drained absolutely fucking dry.

“I liked reading that part.”

“That part?”

“Yes, Edward. The part of the book where Asha was taught to
prepare her body. Haven’t you read the book?”

“I’ve read it.” He tried not to laugh.

“I read that part several times. And do you know what I
did?”

His amusement vanished. He swallowed. “W-what?”

“I touched myself just like the book said.”

Oh. Dear. God.

“Did you?” Why, oh why, when he was literally boneless from
that magnificent release?

“Mmm hmm. All afternoon.”

She would be the death of him. Really, she would.

He pulled her down and kissed her. To make her stop. Stop
talking. He couldn’t bear it.

She tucked her head against his shoulder and sighed. “Will
we be doing any of this again, Edward?”

“Yes, my dear.” He drew his fingers through her hair.

“When?”

He chuckled. “As soon as I recover, darling. As soon as I
recover.”

* * * * *

But they didn’t.

Instead, he fell asleep, and she too, in his arms.

When he awoke it was nearly morning and he knew he had to
leave. He couldn’t be discovered in her rooms. That would be a disaster for
her.

Still, he didn’t stir. He liked her warm weight on his
chest. Loved the silky caress of her hair. The soft huffs of breath as she
snored daintily.

He hadn’t awakened with a woman in his arm since—hell, he
couldn’t remember. He did know he’d never
enjoyed
it before. And this,
he enjoyed.

He tightened his embrace and she snuggled against him, murmuring
in her sleep.

Yes. He liked this. And he liked it a lot.

Too much, perhaps.

Kaitlin was his cousin’s companion. Not a wicked widow or a
working girl. She wasn’t a virgin, but she was also not a wanton. She deserved
a gentle hand. A man far better than he.

But then, he reflected, he
was
the Dark Duke.

There were advantages to having power and money.

There were advantages to having no conscience whatsoever.

It wasn’t as though she was a highborn lady with a righteous
father, a protective brother or an ardent betrothed. She was under his roof.
And she was willing.

He could do with her as he liked.

Still, he slipped from her bed before the servants stirred,
covering her with a blanket and tenderly kissing the tiny curls at her brow
before he left.

Violet’s suite was just down the hall. It wouldn’t do for
her to find him here.

Duke or not, his cousin would flay him alive if she found
out he was in the process of seducing her companion.

Even worse, it would disappoint her.

Chapter Seven

 

Edward sat at his desk in the third-floor study, scribbling
like mad. He’d hated leaving Kaitlin’s bed, especially with a sharp morning
arousal, but he’d needed to go. Had he stayed, surely their play would have
been discovered.

He would not have been able to manage his passion.

Hunger for her burned in his gut, but he found the sting of
it spurred his inspiration. Ideas for a new story, one involving a certain
flame-haired goddess, had beset his mind. Words flowed from him at an
astounding rate.

She was an inspiring little muse.

His quill froze when the door opened. He looked up.

Ah. It was her.

He smiled. “Good morning.”

She hovered on the threshold. “Am I intruding?”

“Not a bit of it. I was just thinking about you. Come in.
Where are the others?”

“Having elevenses.” Was it that late? Gads, he’d been
writing for hours. “I told them I had a megrim.”

“Did you?” Good girl. He closed his book. “Lock the door.”

She started. “Lock the door?”

He shot her a telling look. Loved her response. A flutter of
lashes. A tiny smile. And, she locked the door. He liked that part best.

“What are you doing up here?”

“Nothing, darling.” He stood and made his way to her side.
She looked especially lovely this morning. Though her hair was all done up in
that annoying bun. “Did you sleep well?”

“Like a stone.” She put out a lip. “You were gone when I
awoke.”

“Of course I was.” He pulled her into his arms. “I left at
dawn. Had to go, although I didn’t want to. The servants were beginning to
stir.”

“You didn’t want to?” Ah. That made her smile.

“I wanted to do this.” He settled his mouth on hers for a
quick kiss. It became something else. She wrapped her arms around his neck. He
pulled her flush against him. Groaned as she wriggled.

How delightful.

They were alone, secluded in his private bower, in the
chamber where he had just written a sweltering scene where the young Fiona, who
had been captured by a highwayman, had succumbed to his swarthy charms.

He was highly aroused.

“Kaitlin. You are incredible.”

“Thank you, Your Grace.”

“Although…” He studied her.

“What?”

“This needs to go.” He plucked the pins from her bun,
reveling in the heavy fall of her hair as he freed it. “Ah, yes.” He fisted it,
brought a thick skein to his nose. “Lovely.”

“Edward, that took some time to arrange.”

“It’s a sin to waste time in pointless pursuits.”

She laughed.

“Why do you wear it up? It’s so annoying.”

“Annoying?” She blew out a breath. “It’s necessary.”

“Why?” He buried his face in her neck. Nibbled. She shivered
and rubbed against him.

“It drives men to mischief, I’ve found.”

“Never say it.” Mischief, hell. It drove men mad.

“Edward, do stop. I’ve come to ask you a question.”

He pulled back, a frown on his brow. “I thought you came to
give me the rest of my kisses.”

“Ho! I think you had plenty of those last night.”

“Not a bit of it. You owe me at least twenty more.”

She smacked him lightly on the shoulder and spun away.
“Clearly you weren’t paying attention.”

“I was.” He had. In minute detail. The encounter was burned
on his brain and would linger there until he was in his dotage. He was inclined
to repeat it. Here. Now. He followed her across the room.

When he grabbed her and molded her bottom to his groin, she
squealed. “Edward! Stop that. I have a question for you and it’s serious.”

Blast. He let her go. Best get this question out of the way.
Then he would seduce her. He wanted nothing more than to finally know her. He
cast about. There was a divan in the corner. That would do beautifully.

“Edward?”

He blinked, wrenched from his strategizing, and found her
observing him with an impatient look on her face. Her fists were propped on her
hips. “Yes?”

“Are you listening?”

“No.” Best be honest. “I was thinking about seducing you.”

Her lashes fluttered. She licked her lips. “Edward—please.”

“I would love to please you.” He stepped closer. It bothered
him that she thought lovemaking unpleasant. Though that she hadn’t enjoyed it
with that other man—that stupid, inept bungler—gratified him immensely. She
would like it with him. She would love it with him. If he died trying.

She attempted to fix a stern expression on her beautiful
face although she didn’t quite succeed. “Be serious.”

“I am being serious.” As serious as hell.

“I have an important question. About the book.”

He stilled. “The book?

“Yes. I’ve read this section again and again and I simply
cannot understand, when Asha feels the lick of the lash…”

She had his attention now. All of it. “What can’t you
understand?”
Oh, do tell.

She looked away, suddenly shy. Something flared in his gut.
“I don’t understand why she enjoys
that
.”

That flare became a fist. A tight, gripping, clenching fist.

Ah. Glory. He knew giving her that book had been brilliant.

He let his voice drop an octave. Maybe two. “What don’t you
understand, sweet?”

She flicked a look at him. Her eyes widened. She shivered.
Her mouth opened and then closed again. “Edward?”

“Yes?”

“That tone in your voice?”

“Yes?”

“I don’t understand that either.”

Of course she didn’t. She wasn’t an innocent, but she was
naive, at least about that sort of play. He would love to initiate her. That
she’d brought it up thrilled him to the core.

“Come here, darling.” He made his way to the chairs by the
fire and sat, pulling her onto his lap. His fingers trembled on her hip. “There
are many ways of sharing intimate pleasures. The things we’ve done—”

“Those were quite nice.” She wiggled against his cock. He
nearly lost consciousness as every drop of blood rushed to his groin.

“And there are other ways.” He loved the way she peered up
at him, so trusting. So tempting. “Have you ever been spanked?”

She laughed. “Of course. I was a very naughty girl when I
was younger.”

Oh, she was naughty still, but in the best possible way.

“Not that kind of spanking. I have in mind another kind
entirely.”

“I don’t understand.”

“Will you allow me to show you?” Anticipation hummed in his
veins. He hadn’t thought to take her to this place—certainly not
yet
—hadn’t
dared hoped it possible. But
she’d
brought it up. He would be gentle, of
course. If he could. “Would you like to understand?”

She nibbled her lips. His mouth watered. “Yes, Edward. I
think I would like to understand.”

Holy. Hell.

“Stand up then, darling, and pull up your skirts.”

She stood and shot him a quizzical glance. “Pull up my
skirts? For a spanking? Whatever for?”

“This is a special kind of spanking. Just for the purposes
of elucidation, let’s say you’ve been a bad girl.”

She began pulling up her skirts, but very slowly, and she
was facing him so while she was exposing her bottom, he did not enjoy the
benefit of the sight. “What did I do?”

“You failed to give me all my kisses.” He grinned wickedly
and she responded in kind.

“That
was
naughty.”

“Yes. It was. A debt is a debt, after all. Now, as a result
of it, I shall take the remainder in some other form. Drape yourself over my
lap.”

She sucked in a breath, but did as he asked. Every muscle
clenched at the feel of her warm weight over his thighs, at the sight of her
bottom, creamy and flawless and oh so curved, poised high, within reach.

She wriggled, adjusting her perch. “Is this good?”

“You have no idea.” He set one hand to her lower back and
with the other, stroked.

She emitted a little peep and wriggled some more.

“Hold still.” He took his time, enjoying the feel of her
soft sweet skin, dandling into her crack, dipping around to tease her curls.
And then, when he could bear the agonizing anticipation not a moment longer, he
let his palm fall.

Smack!

She winced, cried out.

The print of his hand rose on her cheek. He stared at it.
Lust, like a snake, slithered and hissed in his belly. God, he’d wanted to do
that. He’d wanted it bad. He hoped he had not done it too hard.

Though he ached to do it again, he held himself back. “How
did that feel?”

“I… Oh… It was…”

Smack!

Lord love a duck. It was fantastic. The way she jumped,
sighed, ground her pussy against his thigh. He felt a dribble of cream dampen
his trousers.

“Oh, Edward!”

“Call me Sir.”

She peeped at him over her shoulder, peering through her
hair. It was wild, unfettered, exquisite. “Sir?”

“Yes.” Oh yes.

Smack! Smack smack smack.

“Oh! Sir. Oh yes, Sir.” She glanced back again, her eyes
wild. “More.”

More
. The nicest word he’d ever heard. And in that
brogue, with that sultry purr—it enflamed him.

He showered her bottom with a series of sharp slaps until
she was gasping and writhing and weeping. He loved the hue he’d created, so he
paused to appreciate it, slowly inching his palm over the burning flesh. She
arched her behind into his caress.

“Greedy wench.” He didn’t give her what she wanted. Rather,
he slipped his hand between her legs. He wanted to know—needed to know…

Ah, yes! She was drenched.

She flinched as he teased her pearl. A feral sound wrenched
from her throat.

“Spread your legs, sweeting.”

She did.

He thrust two fingers in, deep.

She cried out and clenched around him. He responded with
three.

God, she was tight. Tight and wet and slick.

His cock ached. Thrummed. He longed to tip her off his lap,
onto the floor and mount her. He longed to sink into her, take her, possess
her.

But first he wanted to show her just how it could be. How
glorious and superb the mingling pain and pleasure could score delight on a
woman’s body…and soul.

It did not take long.

As he plied her cunt with thrust after thrust, her tension
rose. She wailed and squirmed and quivered around him. He burrowed deep and
searched for that sweet bundle. Found it…

And she came. Exploded. Showered him with delight.

Unable to resist, he laid another slap on her tender globes.
And another. Her wails rose. She came again. And again and again.

When she was finished, when she was gasping and trembling
and weeping, he hauled her up into his arms and held her.

“So you see, my dear?” he said, kissing away her tears. “It
pays to misbehave every now and again.”

 

Kaitlin stared up at Edward, mindless, replete. She couldn’t
believe what had just happened. Couldn’t quite wrap her mind around it. But it
had been magnificent.
He
was magnificent.

His cock, hard as a rock and throbbing madly, pressed
against her hip. She nudged it. His nostrils flared.

“Did you…like that?”

She loved that his voice cracked.

She nestled into him. Put her hand on his chest. “You know I
did. But Edward?”

“Yes, my sweet?” He kissed her brow.

“Shouldn’t there be…more?”

Though she’d never imagined she would
want
like this,
she did. She wanted him…
in her
. She’d thought Dougal had ruined all of
that, made her frigid, perhaps. There was a time when she’d suspected she
always had been frigid, but Edward had wiped that delusion away.

She wasn’t. Not in the least. In fact, now she suspected she
was rather wanton.

Because she wanted him. In her.

He chuckled. “There is more.” He lifted her into his arms,
as though she were thistledown, and carried her to the reclining couch in the
corner. He laid her down and sat beside her, slowly easing her dress from her
shoulders. When it didn’t come off, he grunted and bade her to turn on her side
so he could undo her buttons.

He only undid enough to release her breasts, which was fine
with her, as she was rather impatient as well. She wanted to know. Needed to
know.

He dipped his head to take a taut peak into his mouth. He
dandled her slit as he worked at her.

“Please,” she whispered.

“Please?”

“Wasting time on pointless pursuits is a sin.”

He chuckled. “This is hardly pointless.”

“Please, Edward.” The hunger had arisen again, and more
sharply than before. She spread her legs, pulled her skirts higher. “Please.”

He fumbled with the buttons of his trousers, staring at her
exposed womanhood. He blew out a breath. “You have no idea how long I’ve
dreamed of this.”

“Stop talking, Edward.”

He chuckled, but it was a thready, desperate sound. He
kicked off his trousers—and his shoes as well—and lay down beside her. Then he
covered her.

She loved it. Loved his weight, his heat, his scent. He
kissed her as he positioned himself at her entrance, infusing her with his
breath, his essence. They both shook.

“Tell me if it hurts,” he ground out. “I’ll stop. It’ll kill
me, but I’ll stop.”

“Yes, Edward.”

And he entered her.

Shards of agony showered through her as he eased deeper,
filling her, stretching her, but it was not the agony she expected. It was a
delicious trickle of excruciating craving—for more. “Ah!”

He stilled. “Does it hurt?”

“Yes.” She nibbled on his neck. “But in a delightful way.”

He growled and pulled out, then thrust again. Something
astounding danced through her as he hit a spot, deep within. “Oh. Yes. Yes.”

“Good? Is it good?”

“Yes. More. More.”

He chuckled, though she could tell he was slightly
distracted. His features were taut, his skin stretched over his cheeks. His
color ashen. “Demanding wench. Ah!” Another plunge, another. “So tight. Jesus.”

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