A Duke Worth Fighting For by Christina Britton

Author:Christina Britton
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Grand Central Publishing
Published: 2021-08-24T00:00:00+00:00

Fullness, such glorious fullness and stretching, with Daniel deep inside her. Margery’s breath left her on a long exhale. How she had missed this, the connection to another through lovemaking, the physical intimacy of such an act. But as wonderful as it felt, having him inside her, having his strong body pressing into her with a welcome weight, she wanted more. So much more.

But would he know what to do? Did the fact that he was a virgin—or rather, had been, for he certainly wasn’t one now—also mean that he would not know how to proceed? A silly thought, perhaps. There was such a thing as instinct, after all.

The longer he lay still, however, his arms trembling on each side of her as he held himself above her, his breath ragged against her neck, the more doubt crept in. But perhaps it wasn’t his lack of knowledge that had him pausing. Mayhap it was his injury. Was he in pain? Should she say something? Or would it shatter the moment?

Before she could decide how to proceed, however, he began to move. And all coherent thought vanished.

Her low moan as he slowly pulled out, only to push back within her with the same exquisite slowness, was echoed by his own deep groan. “My God.” He repeated the action, his voice hitching on a breath, “Margery. You feel—you’re—”

“Yes,” she whispered against his temple, her hands diving into his hair. She pressed her heels into the soft mattress, angling her hips to take him more deeply within her, and he shuddered.

“Heaven,” he managed, his lips brushing against her shoulder with that one word, his hot breath bathing her skin.

And it was heaven, in every way. His body was pure bliss in her arms, the feel of his member, large and throbbing within her, quickly bringing her aching body to heights that her hands and fingers had only hinted at over the years. His movements became frantic, each pump of his hips bringing them both closer to the precipice. She soared, higher, faster. Until, with all the force of a wave in a storm-raged sea, the pleasure crashed over her head, drowning her in exquisite completion.

With the tremors still wracking her sated body, he groaned and pulled himself free. But, as mindless with pleasure as she was, she could not think of him finding release alone just then. Immediately she was there, pushing him onto his back, replacing his hand with her own. She worked her fingers over his slick member, squeezing the thick shaft, dragging her fingers over the head.

“Margery,” he moaned. And she suddenly wished she could see him finding his release, for it would have been a beautiful sight. Instead she strained to see him in the shadows, watching with hungry eyes as he threw his head back against the pillows, his hands gripping the sheets beneath him. Suddenly he covered his mouth with a hand, his muffled shout nevertheless ringing through the dark room as he found completion.

Grabbing a towel, she cleaned them both before curling against his chest.

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