The Ice Duchess by Amy Rose Bennett

Author:Amy Rose Bennett
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Published: 2016-09-30T05:00:00+00:00

GEORGIE’S WORDS provoked an immediate reaction. Rafe’s cock jerked and his balls contracted. Painfully. Christ. “Georgie. Are you sure, sweetheart? This evening is all about you. What you need—“

She smiled and pressed her hips against him; the wicked woman was deliberately teasing him. “What I need, is for you to experience the amazing pleasure I just felt,” she practically purred. She slid her hand between their bodies and gently grasped him through the fabric of his trousers. “I insist.”

Fireworks exploded in his head. “Sweet Jesus,” he groaned through gritted teeth. He’d vowed to himself that he would ignore his own need, but with the taste of her still on his tongue, and the way she was stroking him, he couldn’t take much more. “Georgie…” He stilled her hand and rolled away from her a little to ease the torturous pressure. “How? I mean... I can seek my own release if...” He didn’t know what she would feel comfortable doing for him. “Please don’t feel you have to—”

“Shhh, I want to.” She kissed his throat then ran the tip of her tongue along his clenched jaw. All the while her wicked hand rubbed and squeezed. “And as to your first question…” She drew back slightly and began to unbutton the placket at the front of his trousers with deft fingers. “What would you like me to do?” Her lovely mouth curved into a very feline, very sexually confident smile. “I am open to suggestions.”

God, she’s a siren. She’ll kill me. Rafe hissed as her hand encircled his throbbing shaft. His heart thundered so hard he thought it might explode. “What you are doing is more than fine,” he muttered hoarsely. The muscles of his abdomen, his thighs, his arse were bunched so tightly, he shook.

Georgie was stroking him with a steady rhythm, squeezing him with a sure grip whilst she used her other hand to gently roll his aching testicles. “Are you sure?” Her tongue darted out and swiped over her lower lip.

Cheeky wench. The urge to bury himself balls deep in her sweet pussy was suddenly overwhelming. “Yes,” he groaned. No.

She laughed, a low, musical, tantalizing sound. “Liar.”

She pushed him flat onto the bed and worked her way down his naked torso with her mouth, sprinkling light kisses upon his ribs, across his clenched stomach then down to the sharp ridge of one exposed hip. Her hand continued to work his length, sliding up and down, steadily escalating the hot, hungry fire in his veins. By the time her mouth reached the base of his cock, the head was slippery with his leaking seed.

To his frustration, she didn’t take him. Instead, she sat up and threw him a coquettish glance; her blue eyes gleamed through the fan of her long, brown lashes. “Tell me what you want,” she urged in a throaty whisper, mimicking his earlier teasing as she continued to stroke him.

A cruel wench. She was tormenting him, paying him back. He dropped his head into the pillows and gripped the silk counterpane.

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