The Duke of Nothing by Jess Michaels

Author:Jess Michaels [Michaels, Jess]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: The Passionate Pen
Published: 2018-01-15T18:30:00+00:00

Chapter Twelve

“Someone hurt you,” Baldwin said.

Helena stiffened at the words. They were a statement, not a question. Something he could see even with his drink-addled mind. She didn’t look at him, but nodded.

For a moment he was still, and then she felt his finger touch her chin. He tugged and she was forced to look at him. He blinked a few times, like he was trying to clear his mind.

“Do you want this?” he repeated.

She swallowed. “I don’t know,” she admitted. “When you touch me…it makes me forget those other things. But I don’t really know what you’ll do or what I’ll feel.”

His brow wrinkled and his face softened. “Pleasure,” he promised as he brushed his lips over hers again.

She sank into the kiss once more, loving how his tongue felt when it tangled with her own. It was heaven, it was heat, it was desire and pleasure. And somehow he was promising her more. She wanted more.

So when his hand tugged on her skirt again, she didn’t stop him. She just continued kissing him in the hopes that her fears would stop flaring and she could just enjoy this stolen, wicked moment that he offered.

He bunched her skirt at her hips and then pressed a hand on her now-exposed knee. Through her stockings, she felt the heat of his palm as he squeezed gently. Then his fingers glided upward, slowly, tracing the line of her legs.

She shivered, for she’d never realized just how sensitive her legs were. But it was like being jolted awake when he touched her like this.

His kiss deepened as he slid that same hand from the front of her thigh to the inside. Her legs fell open of their own accord, even as she sucked in a breath of surprise and fear.

He pulled away from the kiss and stared into her eyes. “No matter how far I go, no matter what, you can tell me no.”

She jerked out a nod as she looked down at the image of his hand on her leg. It looked so big there, so dark against the pale skin above her stocking, and it felt as warm as fire.

He held her gaze as he glided his fingers up higher, to the slit in her drawers. Gently he parted the fabric, and then his fingers wedged their way inside.

When he touched her sex, she jolted and he stopped moving, but just rested his palm there, flat and warm against her sensitive skin.

He leaned back in and his mouth found hers again. She was focused on his hand against her, that wicked hand covering the most private part of her. But as the kiss deepened once more, her focus softened, the fear lost its edge and she wrapped her arms around his neck with a sigh.

Only then did he begin to move his fingers again. He stroked along the outside of her folds, tracing her sex gently. Now that the shock had faded a fraction, the touch of his skin no longer felt so very frightening and foreign.

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