“Luke,” she pled.
“Patience. I promise I’ll make it good.” His tone was guttural, assuring her he was enjoying this almost as much as she was.
Twice he’d made her beg for his touch. It was reassuring to hear the desire reciprocated in his voice. That knowledge did not help her composure, however. Her fingers curled around clumps of bedding to stop herself from shoving his head where she wanted it or taking things into her own hands.
Luke slid further back and lowered his head to her new favorite position.
Her confusion at his interest in the act disappeared in a puff of smoke. Or was that a puff of his breath over her most sensitive flesh?
He lapped at her, humming at her taste. After a few licks he muttered, “I might need this as my after-supper drink every night. And ’tis far healthier than whisky.”
A spear of fear about the future pierced her sensory haze, but she shoved it aside.
His mouth returned to her drenched folds, his tongue probing at her swollen nub to circle it, then flatten and press it.
She pushed her hips at him, her hands coming to his hair. “Ah!”
His hands slid under her bottom to squeeze and lift her to him, and with less than ten licks she was trembling and shuddering against him, thoroughly seduced.
He gentled his movements and brought her down by degrees before sliding his hands out. Bracing his hands on the bed by her hips, he leaned over her, panting. He straightened and brought his hands to the fastenings on his trousers, then stilled, gazing at her.
Oh, my word. He was asking permission. She might have swooned if she hadn’t already been supine. Recovering, she said, “I told you I wished to see the rest.”
He grinned and released a breath she hadn’t realized he’d been holding. Making fast work of his trousers, he knelt above her in a blink.
Leaning up on one arm, she reached for the part of him that pointed at her. “This looks a tasty treat.”
He snorted, and she sent him a startled look.
“Seems fitting, given theT.” He gestured to the line of hair down his stomach.
She fell back, laughing. A man with a sense of humor even when a willing partner had his cock in her fist. How refreshing. She would miss him dearly when their time came to an end. Despite what Bessie said, Belle couldn’t fathom how an heir to an earldom could marry her.
He notched his rock-hard member at her entrance, distracting her wayward thoughts, and met her eyes again.
She grabbed his hips and tugged, nodding. “Yes, now, please.”
“Wait. Do you have . . .”
“Oh!” How had she have forgotten that? She’d never! Nodding to the small table by her bed where she’d laid out a sheath, she said, “Yes. There.”
He flashed a smile at her preparation as he reached for it. After tying it on, he sank into her in one smooth slide. A feeling north of where they connected stabbed through her. She could not, dare not, identify it, as the thump behind her ribcage was too far from her quim to be a sexual reaction. Sex she recognized. This was something else. Uncertain and new.
He slid back out in the same slow glide, and she lost her breath. Her inner tissues were still sensitive and swollen from her first orgasm, and she swore every vein and ridge caressed her insides.
He swore under his breath, and his jaw clenched. He was holding back. The sweat rolling down his temple and his tense muscles gave him away.
She reached up to touch his cheek. “What do you want? I’ve had mine. ’Tis your turn now, Luke. Take it.”
He blinked, and his nostrils flared. “It has been too long. This may be hard and quick, Belle.”
“Just the way I like it,” she murmured.
“Don’t do that. I want you, not some act,” he growled.
She flinched.
Coming onto his elbows, he smoothed her hair back. “You are beyond lovely. You’re intelligent and independent, and no doubt skilled at your craft. The reason I want honest reactions rather than practiced moves is because the authentic you is enticementenough to have me in this state. I’m about to go off like a schoolboy.”
