It is, however, challenging to fight against a lifetime of instinct.
Nice women aren’t supposed to like dirty sex with dangerous men.
I clench my thighs together, mortification being my natural inclination. But I fight against it and let him play between my legs. And oh, the things he does. He slides his index finger along my slit, wetting the tip before sliding it over my clit. A slow tease that has me sighing his name. He lights me up from the inside out. Igniting the nerves down my thighs. His lips whispering around my navel, growling out the most wonderfully wicked promises against my electrified flesh.
The other men I’ve been with did their best. Unfortunately, they rushed things. Their fingers were not as slow or methodical. Their tongues were not as skillful. Nor was their breath a warm torment fanning over my feverish belly. And when Havoc slides a finger—just one finger—inside me, I grab a fistful of his hair and yank hard as pleasure crashes over me. I’m sure I rip more than a few strands out from their roots.
He answers the tug with a low rumbled groan as he moves up my body to my throat. Sucking. Biting. Hard enough to hurt as he plunges his finger deep inside me. Then he adds a second. Stretching me. Stoking me as his tongue and lips soothe where his teeth mark me.
“Should I stop?” A thrilling shiver slithers down my spine at the vibration of his voice.
“God, no,” I breathe.
Havoc pumps his fingers harder. Faster. “I want you to come for me, Duchess.”
That willnotbe a problem.
If words alone could push me over an invisible edge, those words would do it. That secret part of me who has always craved adventure leans into Havoc’s touch. Thrusting my hips in time with the rhythm of his finger. But I hold back because I’m scared to fall. I’m afraid of what’s waiting for me at the bottom. There’s the…Brighton…side of me. She’s a woman conditioned to obey.
Be a good girl.
Obey the rules.
Sacrifice your happiness for your family.
Always color within the lines.
I shove her to the back of my mind. Silence her voice. Grip tight to Havoc and hold him close. Breathe in the wild and woodsy scent of him. Everything about this man is free and feral, and I crave it. I want it to consume me. I want it so badly I’m willing to fight against twenty-five years of ingrained impulse. And when I pry my legs farther apart to allow him better access, I’m rewarded with a deeper drive of Havoc’s fingers.
Oh, sweet God in heaven, this man, literally, has more talent in a single finger than—
“Touch me, Duchess, please.”
Every drop of air leaves my lungs, and I have to take a moment before I’m able to refill them because… Because Havoc Taylor, enforcer for the Unholy, someone whose name alone instills terror in people, asked me—me, his duchess—to make him feel good.
And I do.
Because I’ve wanted this since Havoc strolled up to me in that coffee house and sarcastically asked if I was Brighton royalty.
Havoc shifts his body, rolling to the side, giving me better access so I can slide my hand inside his sweatpants. I palm his erection, and…Wow. He’s… The man is proportionate. Thick and long and hard. He’s warm steel wrapped in velvet. And he’s pierced. Curiosity has me fidgeting with the tiny, twin steel balls protruding from both sides of his shaft under the head of his penis. It’s impossible for me not to wonder what they’ll feel like inside me. It’s wicked and taboo, and there’s a little flutter in my stomach at Havoc’s growl of pleasure when I tug on the metal bar.
Ah, so he likes that, huh?
Of course he does.
Havoc likes pain, and he’s heavily tattooed. I should have expected he’d have some sort of body modification hidden beneath his clothing.
Using pearls of precum, I moisten his smooth head and pump my hand over his shaft. I give his cock a squeeze. At the jerk of his hips, I follow his lead through his sexy growls and grunts, learning what he likes.
He wants it rough.
I stroke harder. I fist my hand tighter, trying to keep up with each thrust as he fucks my hand, even as he brings me higher with every slide of his finger into my pussy.
Those magical fingers.
But Havoc doesn’t play fair.
Oh, God.
