He sucked harder, swirling his tongue around the rigid peak until she arched, pressing herself deeper into his eager mouth.
Her hips moved insistently against his erection. A throbbing ache crashed over him. Restraint making every inch of his body clench.
He knew what she wanted. His hand slid under the hem of her nightraile, lifting it high upon her thigh.
Her skin was like velvet under his rough fingertips as he slid his hand between her legs. He was going too fast, but he’d outpaced his experience. It wasn’t the physical act—he knew well enough what to do—but nothing had prepared him for this kind of urgency, the indescribable need to join not only bodies, but souls.
Like Jeannie, he was acting on instinct, and right now all he could think about was giving her more pleasure than she’d ever imagined.
His finger swept over her.
His cock jerked, the soft heat, the creamy dampness under his fingertip forced him over the edge. She was so wet.
He’d just reached the limits of his restraint.
She gasped at his intimate touch, her entire body arched, suspended in a moment of shock and anticipation.
He didn’t give her any time to think, but sucked her nipple deep into his mouth and slid his finger inside her. Heat and dampness surrounded him.
She cried out when he entered her, unable to hide her pleasure.
God, she was wet and tight and so damned responsive. Did she have any idea how beautiful and irresistible she was with her flushed cheeks, sweetly parted lips swollen from his kiss, and her luminous gaze soft with desire.
He wanted her more than anything he’d ever wanted before, enough so that for the first time in his life he didn’t trust himself to stop.
Jeannie knew she should be shocked. And she was, but just not enough to stop him. Not when it felt so incredible.
She had knowledge of what happened between a man and a woman—living in a castle with little privacy provided a basic lesson in the fundamentals—but never had she imagined that a man’s touch could rouse such intense sensation, such incomparable pleasure. The grunts and groans she’d heard so often in the middle of the night suddenly made perfect sense.
Nor could she have imagined the connection—the intimacy—forged by a kiss and a caress. She felt bound to him. A part of him. Possessed and possessing at the same time.
When he held her in his arms, kissed her, touched her, she felt as if nothing could ever come between them. She felt safe…secure…loved. He belonged to her and she to him.
She knew what was happening, knew where this was headed. But she didn’t care. The lessons of a lifetime of preserving her virtue suddenly felt silly. He would be her husband. Every instinct, every fiber of her being told her that this was right—that nothing that brought such pleasure could be wrong. Any qualms disappeared in the heated excitement of the moment.
His mouth on her breast, sucking her nipple had sent off wave after wave of white hot pleasure, but it was nothing to the sensations aroused by his hand between her legs.
The strange tickle of pleasure she’d felt before had concentrated to a strong, needy pulse.
The strangeness, the shock, quickly faded as heat pooled around his finger. She felt soft and wet and desperate for his touch. Her thighs parted, opening a little wider. Trusting him to give her pleasure.
Her body felt possessed by a higher power. It was as if he’d taken her to a magical place where all that mattered was letting go and giving way to the incredible feelings building in her body. Except that it wasn’t her body to control anymore, but his.
God, what was he doing to her? It was incredible. The heel of his hand rested on her mound as his finger circled inside her, caressing, plunging in and out until her hips started to lift to meet his wicked stroke.
Something warm and tingly was building inside her. She writhed, arching against his mouth, her thighs closing around his hand, craving the friction.
Her hands clutched his shoulders, his back, craving his weight and his heat. Her body possessed by a power that she could not control.
“Oh, God,” she cried out.
He lifted his mouth from her breast and met her half-lidded gaze. “Don’t fight it, love. Let it come.”
She shook her head. She knew this wasn’t all of it. She wanted him to share her pleasure. She needed him. All of him. The thick column of his erection burned against her thigh. “I want you,” she moaned. “Please.”
Jeannie felt the change, sensing the moment he lost control. Sensed when the passion took on a force of its own. He radiated sexual energy, his body hard and determined.
Duncan knew what she wanted.
