He slid a hand along her leg until he found that sensitive place again and without thinking, Sybil opened her legs. His fingers slipped inside her without any resistance, and the flash of sudden pleasure, so abrupt and so bright, made her moan around the manhood in his mouth.
He withdrew from her and moved so he was positioned above her, his hands braced on either side of her head, his chest pressing against hers. “Do you want this?” he asked, his voice rough. His arousal pressed against her thigh, slick with moisture from her mouth, and she felt as though she was melting all over again.
“Yes,” she whispered.
In one fluid movement, he slid inside her, filling her until a sharp spike of pain ran through her. He stilled, but the sensation of being stretched, of having himinsideher, was too much, and she moved against him, urging him on.
His eyes gaze glazed with need and he palmed her breast as he withdrew and thrust back inside her. Sybil let her head tilt back.Thishad been what her mother had talked about when she had said impaling, but this was as far from the uncomfortable, unpleasant sensation she’d imagined. It felt as though every part of her body was alive in a way she’d never known it could be. Her skin was sensitive, craving every touch he gave her, reacting to the light caress of the breeze.
He tugged at her nipple, and she moaned. The pleasure gathered tight and hot between her legs until that feeling was all she could think about.Hewas all she could think about, every inch of him, every gasp, every groan, every growl that gave her instructions.
Sybil wrapped her legs around him, needing him deeper inside her, letting her body respond to the urges that told her precisely what she needed. The edge drew closer, the pleasure blinding.
George took hold of her chin and forced her face to his. Her eyes flew open and she met his gaze. “I want you to look at me,” he told her.
If she’d ever known how to breathe, she’d forgotten.
He reached between them, rubbed his fingers against the sensitive flesh of her core, and that was enough to bring her over the edge entirely. She shattered, crying out as her body shuddered under his. His weight pinned her to the ground and he held her gaze, growling at her to look at him when her eyes wanted to roll back in her head.
And the pleasure… the pleasure was immense, sweeping through her in hot waves that made her want to combust entirely.
His rhythm fractured and he pulled out of her, turning half away. Lost in the hazy aftershocks of pleasure, Sybil hardly noticed.
The sun seemed as though it was still moving hazily over them, and she stretched her arms wide as though she could collect the sunlight and use it as a blanket. Her body felt oddly heavy now. Even her breasts were swollen.
And George Hansen collapsed beside her, closing his eyes as he slid an arm around her waist. Tired, content, and warm in the sunlight, Sybil allowed herself to drift off to sleep.
* * *
George woke to specks of rain on his face. The beautiful day he vaguely remembered lying down had been replaced by a chilly breeze and that splattering rain.
Damn. He rolled over, looking for Lady Sybil, but the space beside him was empty, the grass slightly flattened. She was gone.
He cursed, spitting the word at the river which had the audacity to gurgle at him as though nothing had happened.
The wine had passed through his system now, mostly, and all he was left with was a slight headache and a sour taste in his mouth. She was a lady and he should have known better than to obey her request to seduce her.Sheshould not have made such a request.
Although, as he remembered the feel of her mouth around him, he couldn’t precisely say he regretted it. In fact, he rather suspected he would carry the encounter with him for the rest of his life.
As he rose, stretching out his legs and straightening his coat, he noticed a flicker of white lying on the grass. He approached and picked up the flimsy material, holding it in his hands for a moment.
A stocking. In her haste to dress and leave, she had left a stocking.
He gave a short, bitter laugh, and shoved the stocking into his bag. As the rain turned torrential, he swung up onto his horse and turned it in the direction of the nearest farm.
Tomorrow, he would visit his family and claim his birthright and the position that had always been his.
ChapterSix
One Year Later
The courtesan on George’s knee giggled as he fed her a strawberry. He couldn’t remember her name, but he didn’t need to in order to enjoy her company. She had pert breasts and was amenable to doing anything he wanted to.
For a price, of course, but since becoming Duke seven months ago, he’d had plenty of money to spend on dalliances like this.
There was a knock on the door and he tossed back a glass of brandy before saying, “Enter.”
“Your mother and uncle are here to see you, Your Grace,” the butler said impassively.
