Felix’s gaze shot to Fitz’s desk and back up to Fitz’s face.
Fitz’s eyes widened.
Felix’s eyes widened.
Bugger.
Felix started backing away. “I…I…think I’ll come back later.”
Georgiana, the little succubus, stroked his cock since she couldn’t reach him with her mouth, still immobilized by his fist. She gave a little twist over his head, and Fitz hissed through his teeth, and Felix picked up his pace. Fitz couldn’t answer his brother. Nothing articulate would come out. He was just trying to control his breathing, which wasn’t easy when his lungs were slamming against his ribcage.
Felix stepped into the doorway and gripped the edge of the door. “Enjoy your…head.” He swung the door shut, his snigger echoing through the study.
Fitz’s shoulders slumped, and he pushed his chair back. But he didn’t let go of hisverynaughty wife. He glared at her. And what did the little minx do? She blinked at him, the picture of sodding innocence. Ha!
“You-you.You!”he sputtered.
More innocent blinking.
“You. Are,” he gritted out.
“I am what, Mr. Jennings?” she asked demurely.
A shiver scurried down his spine. Her breathless words, her using his surname, her on her knees.Fuck.
“You are very, very bad. Incorrigible. Maddening.”
Her eyes fluttered shut, and his mouth slackened. She liked him telling her she was bad?
“What are you going to do about it, husband?”
His gaze flickered over her face, her pleading eyes, her parted lips, her rosy cheeks. His wife had depraved desires. What exactly did she want from him?
He slipped his thumb over her bottom lip, coasting slowly.
She leaned forward, and his thumb disappeared into her mouth. Deep into her hot, wet mouth. His kitten purred again. He pressed down, and she gagged. Now that was a beautiful sight. His cock twitched, yearning for those throat muscles to contract around it.
“This?” he asked. She wanted him to be rough with her? To show her what happened to a bad wench? His blood thrummed, thick with lust.
She dipped her chin and pulled back, his thumb slipping free with apop.
“Use me,” she breathed. “Please, Fitz. I ache to be used.”
His breath fled him in ragged bursts. Just as his heart beat ragged in his chest. He wasn’t well-versed in this. He wasn’t a man who had experience in any sort of darker desire. He wasn’t the Duke, he wasn’t Dunmore. He was vanilla syllabub. He wasn’t who she wanted. The ragged breaths, the ragged beating, turned sharp and painful and choking.
He stood, his chair sliding back, but she followed him. Didn’t let him retreat. Her hands latched onto his thighs, and she looked at him, sincerity shining in her green eyes.
“By you. I want—need—to be used byyou, Fitz.”
He didn’t understand how she knew he needed to hear those words. But it was exactly what he needed. Sometimes when he was around her, he thought…she might be exactly what he needed. He shook off the terrifying thought and focused back on his flushed wife on her knees, begging him to use her.
And just for clarity’s sake…
“You want me to f-fuck that pretty mouth of yours?” Lust pulsed in his cock. Just saying the words had him growing even thicker. “Hold you still, while I”—he paused, swallowed, trying to force the words out of his too-tight throat—“use you for my pleasure?”
“Please,” she whined. Her gaze dropped to his cock, and she whimpered.
He could do that. God, could he do that. He just didn’t want to hurt her.
