The Duke of Kisses

by Darcy Burke

  “You would do that to your own mother?” she asked.

  “To protect my wife and her sister, yes.”

  Fanny’s heart swelled. She went to him and cupped his face in her hands. “I love you so very much.”

  “Not as much as I love you.”

  “Shall we argue about it?” she teased.

  “I’d much rather kiss you.”

  “Of course you would. You’re the Duke of Kisses.” She grinned just before she stood on her toes, and his lips swept over hers.

  Heat and desire rushed over her. She dropped her sketchbook again and threw her arms around his neck. To know he loved her and that they would be together filled her with joy. He’d been a dream she’d never imagined would come true. And yet how could it not? He felt so perfect against her, so right.

  The first kiss was long and lush, their tongues exploring, while the next ones were shorter as their hands began taking over the exploration. He stroked her back, her hip, and then up the side of her rib cage until he cupped her breast.

  She gasped into his mouth, eager for more. There was a tightness in her belly—and lower—that she longed to feel release.

  His shaft was hard against her, just as he’d said it would be that day he’d kissed her in the garden at Clare House. She knew enough about sex to understand what it was and where it would go. What she didn’t know was how it would feel.

  And how she wanted to.

  She pushed into him, wanting his touch and wanting to touch him too. Dragging her hands down his chest, she thrust them under his coat to find his heat. But it wasn’t enough. She wanted more.

  She dug her fingers into his shoulders, dislodging the coat.

  He groaned just before breaking the kiss. “Fanny. I want—”

  “What I want. We’re to be married, David. Why must we wait to lie together?”

  He kissed her again, hard and fast. “You’re sorely tempting me.”

  She looked around, her gaze landing on the willow tree. “Come with me.” She took his hand and started to lead him to the other end of the pond.

  “Wait, your book.” He leaned down to pick it up before following in her wake. “Where are we going?”

  “This is my private place.” She threw him a smile over her shoulder.

  She pulled him under the canopy of the willow, the branches draping down around them making it seem as if they’d walked into their own secluded sanctuary. Turning, she took her sketchbook from his hand and set it near the base of the tree. Then she removed her bonnet and placed it on top of the book.

  She faced him and reached behind herself to grope for the laces of her gown. Unfortunately, she couldn’t find them. For the most part, her London wardrobe required Barker’s assistance, and Barker was, thankfully, back at the house.

  His brows pitched low, and he regarded her with deep suspicion. “Fanny, what are you doing?”

  “Seducing you.”

  Chapter 11

  “Seducing me?” David looked so confounded, she nearly laughed. But this was a serious moment, and she wanted him to know she was serious.

  She moved toward him. “I want to be with you.”

  He glanced around before settling his surprised gaze on her. “Here?”

  “Can you think of a better place? Whenever I am outside, I think of you and how we met. Birdsong is music, as is the rustle of the trees and the swish of the wind.”

  “When you put it like that, no, I can’t think of a better place.” He reached for her hand. She quickly removed her gloves, tossing them toward her bonnet, but they fell short. When David didn’t immediately remove his, she took his hand and tugged the glove off.

  Then she laid her palm over his, her fingers to his wrist, and lightly pressed her flesh against his. “This is better.”

  He ran his thumb along the side of her hand. “You deserve more than this when we’re together for the first time.”

  She shook her head. “No, I deserve you.”

  “I’m not entirely sure the same can be said of me,” he said wryly. “But I will spend my life trying to.” He pulled his hand from beneath hers and tore his other glove away, flinging it aside. His hat followed.

  Then he cupped her head, driving his fingers into the base of her hair and stroking his thumbs along her jawbones. “God, you’re beautiful.” He kissed her again, with sweet ferocity, his tongue driving into her mouth, claiming her.

  She put her hands beneath his coat once more, and this time when she brought her hands up to his shoulders, he helped her to shrug it away from his body, pulling his touch from her just long enough for the garment to drop to the ground.

  The loss of his coat was glorious, but she wanted more of him. She worked at the buttons of his waistcoat, pushing it open when they were free. He threw that aside too, and she went to work on his cravat, loosening the knot with ease and then pulling it free.

  All the while, he kissed her, exploring and devouring, then moving his lips along her jaw and down her neck. Her hands found the open neck of his shirt, and she ran her fingers along his heated flesh, gasping at the contact.

  He pulled away from her briefly as he guided her to the ground. “You must tell me to stop at any moment. Promise me, Fanny.”

  She stared into his eyes, never more sure of anything. “I won’t. Touch me, David. Love me.”

  His lips claimed hers as they reached the ground, her sitting and him kneeling beside her. He kissed along her jaw once more and moved around to her back, his mouth trailing fire along her skin. His fingers found the laces of her gown, and she felt the bodice loosen. Meanwhile, his tongue traced a wicked pattern on her nape and down to the top of her dress.

  She shivered, her body pulsing with need. Turning her head, he kissed her, their tongues meeting in a rapturous dance of desire.

  He moved away from her briefly, and when he returned, he folded his coat and set it behind her before gently guiding her backward.

  “You made me a pillow,” she said, laughing softly.

  “It’s the least I can do.”

  “The least you can do is satisfy this ache inside me. Please tell me you’re going to do that.”

  “I should like to, but perhaps you should be more specific.” His brow furrowed. “What sort of ache?”

  She wasn’t sure if he was teasing her. “Shouldn’t you know? I hate thinking of you with other women, but I am not so naïve to think you’re a…virgin. Surely you know how to induce pleasure.”

  “Well, I don’t want to speak of my past experience—ever. But I will say that I know…enough. However, every woman is different.” He winced. “Forget I said that. All that matters is you, and you must tell me what you want and if I’m getting it right. Tell me where you ache.” He lay down beside her and propped his head on his hand so he could look at her.

  Heat burned her cheeks, but not as much as it burned between her thighs. She couldn’t start with that, however. She wasn’t sure she could start with anything. “You really want me to say it?”

  He leaned down and licked the outer edge of her ear before whispering, “Talking during sex is incredibly arousing.”

  “Is it?” The question erupted from her mouth as a pitiful squeak.

  His tongue continued its exploration, and the need inside her blossomed into stark desire. Or maybe even lust, as base as that sounded. Of course it was base. This was absolutely primal, and she wanted every bit of it.

  “When you touched my breast…before…that was nice.”

  “Just nice?” His fingertips traced along her throat, making circles as he moved lower. Her bodice was loose enough that he easily slid his hand beneath her clothing.

  “It made me feel…wild. Passionate. I wanted you to touch it more.”

  “How?” His lips and tongue kissed along her throat, sucking her flesh and sending shafts of heat directly to her sex.

  “Harder. Without clothing.” She swore. “My corset is going to be in the way.”

  “Turn.” He g
uided her to roll to her side, exposing her back to him once more. He loosened her gown even more, then pushed it down over her shoulders to her elbows. Then he loosened her corset and turned her back toward him. He tugged her sleeves down her arms until the gown was free from her torso.

  She held her breath as his hand came up and slipped under her gaping corset and the chemise she wore beneath. He cupped her naked breast, then closed his fingers over the nipple. “Is this better?” he asked.

  “Oh yes.” She closed her eyes and arched up from the ground, seeking more of his touch. He squeezed lightly, and she moaned, the seductive sound foreign to her ears.

  She felt her garments tugged lower and then a wet sensation on her nipple. Opening her eyes, she saw his head bent over her. His tongue teased her flesh just before his mouth closed over the tip, and he sucked. Gently at first, then harder. Each sensation was new and spectacular, and she felt as though she might combust into a roaring flame.

  Grasping his head, she tangled her fingers in his dark hair. He increased his speed and pressure, taunting her with his tongue and lips and even a graze of his teeth. There was a pause, and she opened her eyes.

  He looked up at her, his eyes gleaming in the filtered light making its way through the willow branches. “Where else?”

  There was no hesitation this time. She was too far gone to do anything but beg for release. “Between my legs,” she whispered.

  Her gown began a slow rise over her calf and then her knee before sliding over her thigh. Cool air bathed her heated flesh.

  His gaze never left hers as he settled the gown at her hips, exposing her. She felt reckless and shameless, and she didn’t care a whit. Nothing about this was wrong or bad. She loved him and he loved her, and nothing in her life had felt so perfect.

  When his fingers stroked along her sex, she stopped thinking. Sensation took over, and she closed her eyes once more, instinctively opening her legs to his touch.

  He teased her flesh with light brushes of his fingertips. “Is this where it aches, my love?” His voice was soft and urgent against her ear before he nibbled at the lobe, once again driving passion straight through her like an arrow finding its target.

  “Yes.” Her breath came in short rasps as her heart thumped with desire. “More, please.”

  “What about here?” He touched a spot at the top of her sex, rubbing and pressing. Lights danced behind her closed eyes, and the ache intensified. She was racing toward something.

  “It’s like the phaeton race. There’s a finish line, isn’t there?”

  “Most definitely. Would you like me to take you there?”

  “Yes, please.”

  “Will you let me do it with my mouth?”

  Her eyes flew open, and she stared into his eyes. “You would do that?”

  “Eagerly.” His stare was dark and provocative, his lips parted as he moved down her body. “Bend your legs.” He guided her to bend at the knees, and he settled himself between her thighs.

  At first, he just continued to touch her, his fingers pressing on that delicious spot. “What is that?” she asked.

  “Your clitoris. It’s very sensitive, as you’ve realized.” He stroked along her folds, his touch lightly probing.

  She moaned, opening her legs even more. “Please, David.” She wanted to go faster. She wanted to reach the finish.

  What had been slow and languorous suddenly became swift and desperate. His lips moved across her clitoris as his finger slid into her sheath. Her hips moved up off the ground, partly in surprise but mostly with need. This was what she wanted.

  He stroked into her, filling her and enticing her—satisfaction seemed so near and then so far away. His hand left her, and he clasped her thighs, guiding them to his shoulders as his mouth opened over her sex. It was like when he kissed her, his lips and tongue licking and sucking, driving her to want more.

  The pressure she felt built tighter and hotter, the excitement roiling as the finish came into view. She could sense it was close, her body quivering as his tongue delved deep inside her. He held her fast as her hips bucked up. She couldn’t seem to stop from moving. She needed to feel him, to welcome him, to own him.

  One hand left her thigh, and then something—his thumb, maybe—pressed her clitoris. He moved her flesh, working her into a frenzy that was already upon her. She cried out as the pressure broke free at last.

  Then his mouth was gone from her as he continued to work her flesh with his fingers. After a moment, she opened her eyes to see him position himself between her legs.

  His gaze found hers. “Do you want me to stop?”

  She couldn’t quite make sense of his question. Why would he stop when he’d already given her what she wanted? She glanced down and saw that his hands were on his fall, and she felt stupid. Or at lease naïve. Of course they weren’t finished.

  “I didn’t realize there was more to do than just you putting your…penis inside me.”

  “Or cock, if you prefer. I tend to like that word, being a bird man.” He winked at her. “We can stop if you want to.”

  She shook her head. “I don’t want to. I want to feel you. It may be a month or more before we’re married. I’d rather not wait that long. It feels as though we’ve waited long enough.” He’d occupied her mind for so much of the past six months.

  “I’ll go slow,” he said, unbuttoning his fall.

  She clasped his hips, pulling him against her. “You’d better not. I’ve decided I like fast.”

  He groaned, and she felt his cock nudging against her opening. “Fanny, you are going to ensure this is faster than it should ever be. A man prides himself on lasting a long time.”

  “Does he?”

  “To prolong the pleasure.”

  “I think pleasure should be measured by intensity, not time. Wouldn’t it be better to do this ten times than just once for the same amount of time?”

  He laughed. “Yes, but, ah, men’s equipment doesn’t exactly work that way. If I’m ever able to do this ten times in a row, I fear I may end up dead.”

  “Why would you say such a thing?”

  He slid into her slowly, and she felt a moment’s pain to go with the uncomfortable pressure of having him invade her flesh. “The intensity you so aptly mentioned. Coming ten times might kill me, especially since I think this may be the most intense orgasm of my life.”

  The pain was lessening, and Fanny liked how the conversation was keeping it from bothering her. “Is that what just happened to me? An orgasm?”

  “Yes.” His voice was strained. “Christ, Fanny, I really hope time isn’t an issue, because I may come if you move. Please don’t move.”

  “And coming is another way of saying orgasm? How fascinating.”

  “Is this a lecture?” he asked, sounding a bit incredulous.

  She curled her hand around his nape and drew his head down. “It’s an education, and I am exceedingly glad to have you as my tutor.”

  He pushed a bit farther, filling and stretching her. She gasped, and he asked if she was all right.

  “Just accommodating. This is…different.” The discomfort was all but gone. “I’m waiting for that desperate sensation to return.” She looked up at him with worry. “Unless… Am I only to have that one orgasm?”

  “Not if I can bloody help it. Though I understand the first time can be less satisfying.” He kissed her, his lips lingering against hers. “Let’s see if we can get you there again.” He slipped his hand between them and found her clitoris again. He circled her flesh, sparking that now-familiar desire.

  “Yes, that’s it,” she breathed as arousal flared through her. Having him inside her elicited a new and delicious sensation. But there was something missing. She wanted to move. “Can I really not move?”

  He took his hand from between them and planted it next to her head. “You can. You should. That’s what we do. Allow me to demonstrate.” He nearly withdrew from her, then pressed forward. He repeated the motion again and agai
n.

  “That’s quite nice.”

  He nipped her neck. “There you go with ‘nice’ again.”

  “It’s lovely. Wonderful.”

  He moved a bit faster, driving into her with more force.

  She sucked in a sharp breath. “Oh, now that’s spectacular. Do it again.”

  He did, his hips snapping against hers. The next time, she moved with him. “Divine,” she said as the pressure built inside her once more.

  “Wrap your legs around my waist.”

  Her gown was bunched between them, but she lifted her legs and moaned as the movement fit them more snugly together. “Oh!”

  “Hold on to me, Fanny.” He claimed her mouth and kissed her with a fierce passion that was mirrored in the movement of his hips and the stroke of his cock.

  She closed her eyes and clasped him tightly, gripping his back and accidentally caressing his backside. He groaned again, and she decided it had been a good accident. But how she wished he was naked so she could feel all of him. Some day soon, she would. For now, she would lose herself in this glorious moment.

  He moved faster still, carrying her upward, and she truly felt like a bird taking off in flight. Once more, his hand brushed her clitoris, pushing her toward that looming finish. It seemed a bit farther to reach this time, but at last, the world broke open, and light and heat rushed over her.

  Removing his hand, he gathered her close and drove into her several more times before crying out. She stroked his head and kissed his cheek, his neck, before falling back and resting in sweet oblivion.

  Some moments later, he’d slowed and began to withdraw from her. “You’re leaving me?” she asked.

  “I must.” He kissed her forehead. “We can’t stroll around joined as we are.”

  She giggled as he sat back from her.

  He reached for her skirts with a wince. “I don’t have anything to help you clean up.”

  She sat up, and he rushed to help her. “That’s what a petticoat is for, silly.” She’d just be sure to launder it herself.

  They took care of tidying themselves, and then he helped her up so he could lace up her garments.