Devil in Duke's Clothing (Royal Pains Book 1) (10 page)

One by one, he undid the tiny shell buttons on the pin-tucked placket of her nightgown. When the front fell open, he pushed it off her shoulders until it fell down her body like a feather-soft caress. ‘Twas the first time she’d been completely unclothed under his scrutiny.

She tensed when he put his hands on her and began to explore. “You have such flawless skin,” he said. “‘Tis like porcelain—nay, bone china—or better yet, white silk.”

The compliment pleased her, as did his touch. His hands were soft and warm and his caresses at once soothing and sensual. She wished she could see him, touch him, kiss him.

His contact ceased abruptly, leaving her bereft. The soft rustle of fabric whispered in her ears. Was he undressing or turning down the bed?

Wine-scented breath brushed her face. Something pushed betwixt her legs and into her womanly cleft. His hand. A finger tickled her bud, causing the muscles below her navel to jump in a most delightful fashion.

Warm moisture enveloped the crest of her left breast. His mouth. He sucked and flicked his tongue against the nipple whilst his finger went on teasing her clitoris. Waves of exquisite pleasure pulsed through her body.
 

As his suction strengthened, the pleasuring finger quickened.

Her muscles twitched, her insides grew molten, and her bones turned to jelly.

His mouth released her breast. Something pinched the nipple he’d sucked to extreme sensitivity. She flinched. Had he bitten her? She swallowed the question, remembering his command.

“How does that feel?”

It hurt a little, but mostly felt strange. “‘Tis difficult to describe the sensation.”

His mouth captured hers in a languorous kiss, surprising her. The finger ringing her bud stoked a delectable fire down below.

He coaxed her lips apart and gave her his tongue. She caught it betwixt her lips and sucked hard whilst caressing it with her own. The kiss was more than a merger of mouths. ‘Twas as if they were joined, body and blood. Two beings sharing a single soul.

His big, warm hand closed around hers, drew it forward, and pressed it against his erection. Desire fluttered in her womb as her fingers closed around its thickness. The mask magnified every undulation as she explored his phallus and testicles.

He removed whatever had been pinching her nipple.

Sharp, sweet pain followed the release. She wanted so badly to ask what he’d attached to her breast, but wanted even more to run her hands all over his body, to tangle her fingers in his hair, to take his cock deeply into her body, but she was too enslaved by her dark duke to exercise her will.

He withdrew from her, abandoning her to the draft of the room for a moment before scooping her up. He carried her a few steps and then set her down on her back on something flat and firm.

The bed.

“Raise your arms above your head.” His firm tone brooked no refusal.

She obeyed at once. His weight jostled the bed before fabric encircled first one wrist, then the other. Her pulse quickened as he secured them to the iron headboard. Bound and helpless, she sensed him looming over her. She held her breath. He kissed her quickly before moving to her breasts. He sucked each nipple in turn with vigor—the way he’d sucked Mistress Honeywell’s. Captivation gave way to jealousy. She flung the ugly emotion away. He was hers now. Her husband, her lover, her teacher. She would not let negative thoughts erode her bliss.

He trailed kisses down her body and blew softly on the moisture left by his mouth. Pleasure spilled over her body like warm honey. She wanted him inside her so badly she could hardly bear it. His tongue dipped in her navel before his mouth moved lower. Her muscles twitched and clenched as he kissed his way down to her pubic curls. Her hips bucked reflexively when his lips closed around her bud.

He applied the perfect amount of pressure and suction to ignite an intense, desirous yearning deep within her. As his tongue joined in the dance, flicking her clitoris and licking her inner folds, his hands pressed her inner thighs, urging her knees up and apart. She gasped and spread her legs as wide as they would go.

“Oh, Robert. Holy Mother of God. What are you doing to me?”

The raptures brought on by his mouth were utterly exquisite. As every nerve ending hummed with enjoyment, she writhed uncontrollably under his face.
 

“Keep still,” he commanded.

The spell broke for a moment, but he quickly resumed his devotions, driving her toward the crashing finale. Longing hummed louder and louder until her whole body sang with the need to be filled.

She groaned, pulled on her restraints, and rolled her hips. “Please Robert. Put it in me.”

“Put what in you?” He teased her, the scoundrel.

“Your cock, what else?”

“As it so happens, I have several tools for the job.”

Her mind reached for his meaning but found only an empty shelf. “Your cock,” she cried in frustration. “Put your cock in me, damn you.”

“Put it where?”

“In my cunny. Please. I ache for you so badly I fear I might die.”

He scoffed, still teasing her cruelly. “Your cunny? Goodness me, Rosebud. I thought you were ignorant of language of that nature.”

“So did I.”

“Do you know any other vulgar words you’d care to share with your husband?”

“I know
swive
.”

He licked her clit—delicious torture. She was wound so tight, she feared she might burst.

“What about
fuck
?”

She shook her head. “Fuck? No. What does it mean?”

“The same as swive, only even coarser.” His voice was seductive gravel. “I want you to say it. I want you to beg me to take you, using that four-letter obscenity.”

She bucked and rolled her hips in desperation. “Why?”

“Because you pledged before God to obey my every command.”

She narrowed her eyes behind the mask. "I cannot imagine the vows support your purpose in this case." “Do it to please me, then.”

“Very well.” She sighed and took a breath to gather her verve. “Fuck me until my eyes cross and my teeth break.”

He laughed and put his fingers in her. Two or three of them, from the feel of it. He pushed them in and out, reaching deep. It felt good, but not as good as when he did it with his cock.

“My, but you are wet,” he said. “I was going to wait and subject you to sundry other tortures, but I’ve changed my mind.”

His erection brushed her crevice and came to rest against her aching entrance.

“Beg me again, Maggie. Only this time, call me Lord and Master
.
And when I penetrate you, wrap your legs around me, aye?”

Why not? If that was what it would take to relieve her suffering, she was not about to make a fuss. “Yes. Oh, yes. Fuck me, Lord and Master. Please. Ease my suffering. I beg it of you.”

He came into her fully with one long, delicious stroke.

She shuddered with core-deep satisfaction, certain she’d died and gone to heaven.

He eased back with exquisite slowness, almost breaking contract before burying his full length in her again. He did this again and again, driving her to the edge of reason. “How’s that?”

“Heavenly.”

“Put your legs around me, Maggie, so I can go even deeper.”

Deeper? Was that possible? Guilt twinged inside her. In her pleasure, she’d forgotten his request. Or was it a command? He did not seem angry, though ‘twas hard to gauge his emotions when she could not read his expression or posture. She did as he wanted, hooking her ankles in the small of his back.

This time, when he pushed into her, the head of his cock banged against the entrance of her womb whilst his pubic fleece brushed the part of her whose name she did not know.

“What do you call the part where your private curls now rest?”
 

“The
perineum
.”

He pushed up on his arms and rolled his hips, rotating his cock inside her.

She let out a low moan of gratification. God, it felt good. Too good for words and far too good not to be sinful.

He pulled back and plunged in again, sinking to her depths. She rolled her hips around his buried length. The groan he expressed sent delicious quivers through her.

“Are you enjoying it this time?”

“Yes. It feels incredible.”

“Good.” He drove into her again.

His thrusts grew more rapid until he was pounding her relentlessly. Each time he plowed into her, she pulled up to meet him and rolled her hips in welcome. His avid, throaty vocalizations told her he approved. She could see why the sisters called this a sin. Something this good had to be. The coil wound tighter with every thrust until at last it sprang. As her body quivered and pulsed, the world fell away. Her mind went blank. Time stood still. Fear fled. There was only sensation. Only Robert, pounding her with abandon.

“Aye. Oh, aye.” His voice was husky and strangled. “Shatter around me, my wee Rosebud. Let me take you to the moon and stars.”

He made a husky, startled sound and jerked out of her. Parking his cock atop her pubic mound, he unloaded onto her belly, breathing like he’d run a mile.
 

Her thoughts were scrambled, her heart pounded wildly, and her respiration was rapid and erratic.

Falling down on her, he pulled off her mask. “Maggie. Oh, Maggie.” His eyes were intense, frantic, and bright green. “Do you see how good, how much better, it can be this way?”

He pressed his mouth against hers in a desperate, lip-crushing kiss. Just when she thought sure she’d suffocate, he got off her and peered down at her from his perch betwixt her knees.

“Did I hurt you?”

“No,” she said. “‘Twas wonderful.”

“‘Twas for me, as well.”

He untied her hands and lay down beside her.

She stretched out, as boneless and jiggly as molded gelatin. She searched herself, but found not the least shadow of shame. This puzzled her as much as it pleased her. As long as memory served, she’d seen her body only as an instrument of wickedness, temptation, and sin. Clothes were necessary not for protection from the elements, but because nakedness was an affront to God, who’d made Adam and Eve ashamed of their bodies when he cast them out of Eden.

Now with Robert, she could show herself, bare herself, body and soul, because he made her feel beautiful, desirable, and unashamed. Rolling toward him, heart brimming with affection and gratitude, she set her head on his shoulder.

“I feel comfortable with you.” She picked at the dark carpet of hair on his chest. “I do not know why, but I do.”

He snaked an arm around her and pulled her body hard against his side. “It gladdens me to hear you say so,” he said quietly, “because I am exceedingly fond of you.”

“I am happy to hear it.” She kissed his cheek. “Because I am fond of you, too.”

Chapter Five

Like the heather-clad Highland hillsides in summer, elation bloomed inside Robert’s heart as he lay with Maggie in his arms. Not only had she passed her first lesson with flying colors, she’d admitted she was developing feelings for him. Unless she’d only said it to please him, which might be the case, though, she did not seem the type to be deliberately deceptive.

“Maggie, can I ask you something?”

“Of course. Ask what you will.”

“If you had won our wee competition, what might you have asked as your prize?”

She rose up on her elbow and kissed the nearest of his nipples before meeting his gaze. “I had my preferences narrowed down to two.”

“Which were?”

“Spending the night in your bed with you or seeing your secret chamber.”

Suddenly uneasy, he licked his lips and shifted his weight. “Had you asked to see my secret chamber, I would have granted your request, though I would much prefer to delay until you are better prepared.”

“And what about my other request?”

“You may sleep with me in my bed whenever you wish to,” he said. “We only have separate room so we can each enjoy our privacy should we desire to be alone.”

Her mouth turned down in a frown. “If that is so, then why is there a lock only on your side of the door?”

“So you cannot lock me out when I want to come in.”

Her eyes narrowed. “What if at some time I do not wish for you to come in?”

“Then say as much and I shall leave you to yourself.”

She pushed onto his chest and kissed him on the mouth. “Do you think we will quarrel?”

“Married couples generally do at one time or another.”

She set her head on his chest, smothering him with her fragrant, golden curls. “Why do you like to tie women up?”

“To take them out of themselves.”

She turned her head so her chin dug into his chest. “I do not understand.”

He felt relaxed and sleepy, so he took a moment to gather his wool whilst running his fingers up and down her back. “Since Adam and Eve, women have been programmed to defer to men,” he said at last. “To be obedient, subservient, and submissive. ‘Tis so engrained, they are largely unaware of it.”