Ignoring his question, her fingers dipped low into the rich-brown curls of her sex. St. Clara had never been so jealous of appendages in his life.
Trailing a finger from her neck down her middle, he stopped to trace a pink nipple with his index finger. “Answer me,” he commanded gently, seeing her bosom heave as her breathing increased with his every touch down her long, sensual body.
“I-I’m six and twenty, not some innocent debutante.” Her voice shook as he took her hand from her sex, intertwining it with his.
His fingers slid against her damp fingers that were coated in her essence. He groaned, wanting to wrap his lips around them and taste her for himself.
“Have you ever thought of me when you pleasured yourself?” he asked, nipping at her jaw with his teeth, enjoying the whimper of need that escaped her lips as he glided their fingers down the swollen lips of her sex. “Hmmm?”
“St. Clara,” her breathy voice called out, her gaze locked on their intertwined hands.
He loved her reaction to him, took pleasure in knowing that he made her wet with need. Finding her swollen nub, he added pressure to her finger as Pippa’s back arched off the bed, presenting her breasts to his needy gaze.
Capturing one large breast with his mouth, he sucked greedily.
“St. Clara, I-I cannot think.” Pippa let out a shaky breath as he continued to guide their fingers over her clitoris before he dipped them into her wetness.
“You think too much,” he said, before he sucked her nipple into his mouth, twirling his tongue around the pebbled flesh. “You should’ve considered that before you were naughty.” His cool breath fanned over her nipple as he released her, his own fingers sliding down to her entrance, where he found her soakedand ready for him. “What did you think would happen when you teased me, Kitten?” He growled against her bosom, enjoying how her thigh grazed his hard cock.
“I need more,” she pleaded, her lust filled gazed locked on him.
It was music to his ears, and he wanted more. Much more. He needed her to beg for his cock, but that would be tomorrow.
St. Clara pulled her closer with his free arm, the feel of her pressed against him pleasing him more than anything ever did. This was what he had always wanted. “I want you to play with your little nub while I fuck you with my fingers, Kitten.” He kissed her neck, teasing and savoring her taste with his tongue.
“Dear Lord,” she moaned at the filthy request as he entered her slowly with one finger.
Her small hand cupped her mound, and he couldn’t help but to stop breathing at the sight of her fingers twirling around her swollen nub.
It was the most erotic sight he had ever seen, and he wanted to feast his depraved eyes on it for the rest of his damn life.
Greedily parting her legs, she welcomed his intrusion as she continued rubbing herself.
Bloody hell, he was going to embarrass himself like an untrained boy.
Kissing his way to her neck, he licked and sucked as he continued to thrust inside her with his finger. His resolve not to have her until they were wed slipped away with her pleasured breathing and mewls.
“Oh!” Pippa moved her hips, meeting his frantic movement as she continued rubbing herself.
She discovered her pleasure, dancing on and off his finger, while her dainty hands worked herself.
“That’s it. Take what you need, Kitten.” His voice was rough and low as he kissed a path down her body. Sucking and biting,he desperately tried to contain his own need from seeing her in such a state. He was like a young man again, desperate. Nothing would sate him except being inside of her.
St. Clara had tried—God knows he tried to hold on to his control—but he could not. He needed to taste her sweet juices on his tongue.
Her body quivered, and her speed increased as she continued to pleasure herself combined with his own efforts.
“Cha—” She began but stopped, grabbing him and taking his lips forcefully as she climaxed around his fingers.
It was a savage kiss. Her body came undone as she gripped his hair painfully.
Wrenching himself away from her, he craved to hear her say his name after nine long years. “Say it,” he commanded, needing to hear his Christian name on her lips once more.
She ignored him, trying to pull him in for another kiss. He removed his fingers from her sex, positioning himself over her now-relaxed body.
“I want to hear you say it, Kitten.” Wet kisses trailed down her body, stopping to pay homage to each breast. “If you do not say it tonight, rest assured I will not stop until I hear you call my name, night after night.” He trailed his tongue to her belly button, dipping and tasting. Her whimper of need fueled him on, even while his mind screamed at him for control. There was none to have with her, and St. Clara knew it like he knew his own name.
Stopping at the apex of her thighs, St. Clara met her eager gaze. “I want to hear you say it.”
