Lydia’s moan made him catch his breath as lust coursed through him, sapping his control. Need pulsated in his cock as it begged to replace his fingers and thrust into her. He’d coupled with women for entertainment and to ease a physical desire. But his neediness went beyond mere attraction. He wanted all of her: heart, mind, and soul. And his reason was simple; he wished to give her all of him.
“Keith,” she breathed.
“I know, sweetling. I want to make you climax. Do you know what that means, Lyddie?”
She nodded her head. “I found books in here a long time ago, and my mother explained it.”
Keith chuckled. “I should have known you’d be curious. I would explore everything with you. But for today, I wish to bring you to release, then hold you again.”
“What about you?”
“No, sweetling. I will ease my ache alone and later. I want you to take without worrying about giving.”
“But that must be uncomf?—”
“Shh, little one, or I shall kiss you to make you quiet. Don’t argue.” Keith’s smile softened his words.
“Kiss me anyway?” Lydia couldn’t believe she asked that, but then it seemed rather benign considering the man had his hand down her pants, and his fingers dipping inside her.
“You never need to ask, Lydia. I give them to you, and only you, freely.”
She would sort out what he meant later. It was too much to work through now. The sensations he stirred consumed her attention as his thumb stroked her pearl. She recalled images she’d seen of a man doing this to a woman. She wished they were bare, so she could watch. Her mind jumped to the illustrations that had followed of the couple pleasuring one another with their mouths.
If I were his wife, would he do such things to me? Do Englishmen do that? I imagine so. At least, Keith probably does since he’s been so many places. But do Englishwomen let their men do that? What would he think of me?
Lydia’s thoughts flew away as his fingers eased farther into her entrance. The feeling had her lifting her hips, trying to draw his digits into her even more. His thumb worked faster as a familiar sensation tightened her belly. She’d learned much from those books and experimented as much as she could without puncturing her maidenhead.
“More,” she whispered. Without thinking, her hand slid beneath her waistband and covered Keith’s. She guided him with expertise that made his heart skip a beat. “Those books had pictures of people alone.”
She hoped he understood her meaning, and she assumed he did when he rubbed harder and faster. His kiss was wild and devouring. She withdrew her hand, as she needed both to cling to him. Neither realized she moved, and that he guided her until her mons rubbed against his cock. She straddled his lap, her hips undulating against his hand and his rod. Her head tipped back as she rode his fingers. Her hair tickled his kneecaps, and her fingers bit into his shoulders.
His free hand worked the buttons down the front of her tunic until he could push it off her shoulders. He dove in and feasted on one breast, then the other, alternating as though he hadn’t eaten in ages. Her release swept her away as though it was a sea wave spinning her over and over, tumbling her until she didn’t know which way was up. Her only lifeline was clinging to Keith. She cared not that the servants likely heard her as she moaned through her climax. She fell forward, her head resting on his shoulder as the euphoria faded. But the feel of his rigid length still rubbing against her pearl left her unsated.
Keith flipped them, so Lydia rested on her back. He ripped her pants down to her ankles before he settled his shoulders between her thighs. “Do you know what I’m going to do next?”
“God, I hope you do. Keith, I’ve never done any of this before. I swear I only know because of the books and what my mother told me.”
“I never doubted that, Lydia. But I don’t care about anything but being with you right now.”
“You’d care later if you thought I was a wanton, that I was soiled.”
Keith surged upward and grasped her throat, but his hold was light, not at all threatening. It was more possessive, yet gentle. “Don’t say that. I do not think less of you for wanting me. How could I? I know you haven’t been with a man because I felt your maidenhead. But even if it wasn’t there, I don’t care. You’re here with me now. No other man has you beneath him, Lydia. You don’t strike me as a woman who would share, so I won’t make you. But know that I am not a man who shares, either.”
Before she could respond, Keith’s body thrust backward, and his tongue was at her entrance. He worked her plump petals, inhaling her scent that went straight to his head. She smelled womanly, but there were elements of jasmine, patchouli, and rose. He breathed her in as his tongue flicked her pearl. He watched her as she watched him. Her breasts rose and fell, tempting him away, but he wouldn’t be distracted. He suckled on her nub as his fingers continued to work her. With a moan that seemed to come from her core, she squeezed her thighs against his head, lifted her hips, and shattered.
When she clawed at him, he shifted over her once more, but only after he suckled each breast until her nipples were distended. He pinched and twisted, but not enough to hurt. She guided his head toward hers, hungry for a kiss. Her taste lingered on his tongue, but she cared not. A steely arm slipped beneath her before she gasped as he flipped them. She found herself draped across him. She thought she’d had her fill, but once more, his cock pressed against her, reigniting the fire.
“Little one, I shall spill if you keep moving like that.”
“And if that’s what I want? If I don’t accept your refusal?” Lydia grinned.
“It was half-hearted at best. I meant what I said, but you feel better than anything I’ve ever experienced.” He watched as a seductive gleam entered her eye. He knew it pleased her to hear that declaration, and he knew she understood what he meant. He wanted her to know he desired her above all others. He exaggerated not at all. He enjoyed seeing her pride after seeing her sorrow.
He grasped her bottom once again, certain his hands had found where they belonged permanently. He helped her rock on his length until he couldn’t repress his thrusts. If they didn’t have his smalls and breeches between them, he would claim her and plant his seed inside her core. Instead, he felt his cock pulse before his release took control. When she glanced down between them, he was certain she realized what happened. When their eyes met again, wonder replaced the seductiveness.
“Come here, sweetling. Let me catch my breath while I hold you.”
They lay together as the minutes ticked by on the mantle clock. They both watched the flames in the hearth, neither worried about the world beyond the library. But as the sun shifted and cast longer shadows, they knew Lydia had to return home. She eased away, but her eyes gravitated to the stain on the front of his breeches. She looked up at him and found him observing her. He sat up and helped her off the settee before she straightened her clothes. Once she had her tunic buttoned again, he opened his knees and guided her to sit again, her legs between his.
