His touch glided along my sex and I felt my release building momentum like a wave about to crest and crash onto the shore. My sex throbbed with need and the Duke answered my body’s silent plea.
He covered his mouth over my core. His lips worked as a suction as his tongue flickered across my treasured pearl of passion with just enough pressure to drive me to insanity. His fingers gently caressed the base of my opening as he whispered reverently against my most intimate area, “You taste so sweet, like sugar sprinkled over a berry.”
Hearing those words in combination with the magical things he was doing with his tongue and fingers pushed my body over the cliffs of climax to free-fall into oblivion.
Liv’s own body was close to taking the same dive as she laid back, closed her eyes, and allowed her imagination to continue the scene. She was used to putting herself in her character’s shoes. When she wrote she did her best to get to the truth of what each person in her story was experiencing. But before meeting Grady she’d never pictured an actual person as one of her heroes. They always remained the fictional men she’d dreamed up in her imagination.
Tonight Grady was the Duke of Havenshire and she was Lady Elizabeth pressed up against the stables with the Duke’s face between her legs.
Liv’s hand slid beneath her sweats and dipped between her legs. She found her panties were wet with her arousal and she had a feeling they’d been that way since the kiss they’d shared. Her fingers slid easily along her damp folds and quickly found her swollen clit.
The tip of her finger teased the pebbled nub as she imagined Grady’s touch on her body, not her own. His fingers explored her as his tongue flicked her pleasure button. She imagined looking down as he licked her body like it was a melting ice cream cone.
Within seconds her stomach muscles contracted as her orgasm claimed her. White hot bursts of pleasure exploded from her core as she continued touching herself and milking her release for all it was worth.
When her body finally relaxed, she closed her eyes and drifted off into the deepest, most peaceful sleep she’d had in two years.
* * *
Holy shit, Grady thought to himself for probably the twentieth time as he walked through his front door and thought about the way Liv’s curves felt pressed against his body. The soft gasp that escaped her mouth a second before her lips found his was playing like the background soundtrack in a movie.
He knew that he shouldn’t have let things go as far as they did considering she was clearly drunk which lowered her inhibitions. It was wrong that he’d kissed her back, but damn, he was only human. Resisting her had taken superhuman strength, and like he’d always said, he wasn’t a hero.
He’d never been so affected by a woman and he had by no means lived the life of a monk. There was something so special, so different about Liv that he couldn’t put his finger on. But he wanted to put all of his fingers on her.
After stripping out of his clothes he had just turned on the shower when he got a text. For a millisecond he entertained the possibility that it was Liv, but he quickly dismissed that possibility since they hadn’t exchanged numbers.
He picked it up and saw it was from Chrissy.
Chrissy: If you need a suit to wear to the wedding, you can come by tomorrow and grab one of Jim’s.
He hadn’t even thought about what he would wear. A lot of his stuff was in the storage unit since he was just renting a small studio until he found a place to buy. He could go and try and find it in all of his boxes tomorrow but it would probably be easier if he just went and grabbed one of his asshole brother’s.
Grady: That would be great. Thanks.
After sending the text he stepped into the shower and thought about what he’d agreed to. He hadn’t been on an actual date in over five years. Once he made detective, it had sort of consumed his life. It wasn’t a nine to five sort of job. His schedule was constantly changing. Most weeks he worked sixty plus hours.
If he’d wanted to, he could have made room for a private life, but he hadn’t met anyone who had inspired him to make that sort of sacrifice.
Until last night. It was all what-ifs, but he was pretty sure even if he’d met Olive in Los Angeles, he would have made an exception and made time to get to know her.
He stepped beneath the warm spray of water and nearly knocked over his shampoo with his hard-on. He’d been sporting a chubby since she’d pressed her lips to his and the three mile walk in the crisp summer night air had done nothing to deflate it. He was still rock hard, and his balls were throbbing.
Knowing there was only one way to alleviate his discomfort he wrapped his hand around his shaft and began moving his tight fist up and down, stroking himself as he replayed one of the questions she’d asked him the night before.
His fantasy was what he would call revisionist history. Instead of him keeping things purely professional, he went the erotic choose your own adventure route.
“Is this part of it, I bribe you and then I’m a bad girl and you cuff me?”
“Do you want to see what I do to bad girls?” he asks.
Without hesitation, she nods.
He picks her up and throws her on the bed. She gasps as he roughly tugs her hands above her head and cuffs her to the headboard. Once she is restrained, he frees his throbbing cock from its denim barrier. She watches him as he squeezes his shaft in his fist before rubbing the head along her lips. Her tongue darts out and she licks the tiny bead of arousal off his engorged head.
“Suck it,” he commands roughly.
“Yes, sir.”