When he reached her breasts, her breath shattered.
His tongue circled one nipple, then the other, slow and unhurried. He suckled with devastating patience, drawing each taut peak into his mouth until her spine bowed and her hands clutched the arms of the chair in frantic search of something to hold. His teeth grazed just enough to send lightning straight to her core, then soothed the sting with the warm, silken sweep of his tongue.
And still, he descended.
Charlotte’s thighs trembled as he knelt again, broad shoulders settling between them. His palms eased her knees apart, coaxing her open like a bloom. She let herself fall into it—this wicked,wondrousunraveling.
The cool air caressed her slick heat, and she shivered, exposed and aching.
“Seth—” she started, but the words fell apart on her tongue.
He kissed the inside of one thigh. Then the other. Her hands flew to the arms of the chair as his mouth moved closer—closer—and then—
“Oh…” she breathed.
She hadn’t known. Hadn’t even imagined. That a man’s mouth could do this.
His tongue was slow at first, teasing, tracing delicate, maddening patterns against the most sensitive part of her. She shuddered, thighs tensing. She tried to close them, instinct and disbelief at war inside her. But his hands came up, firm on her hips, keeping her open.
She moaned. It was soft at first, then louder as he deepened the rhythm. Each flick of his tongue sent sparks cascading down her spine. Every press of his lips built the tension inside her like the rising of a tide.
She couldn’t stay still. Her hips rocked. Her fingers slid into his damp hair, tangling, desperate to ground herself. The sensations were exquisite, foreign, and utterly addictive. She was being devoured… made sacred by his mouth.
And Seth—God above—he was relentless!
“Please,” she gasped, not knowing what she begged for.More?Mercy?
He growled softly, the vibration of it making her cry out. His tongue found a new rhythm, and her body answered with helpless urgency.
The pressure inside her built… and built. Until it was a relentless, pulsing ache that clawed higher with every second.She felt like she might shatter. Her vision blurred. Her breath came in broken sobs.
“I… I can’t—” she gasped.
Pleasure surged through her in a wave so powerful it consumed her voice, her thoughts, her entire world. She came apart on his tongue, hips jerking, thighs trembling around his head. The ecstasy was overwhelming, like a fire lit inside her that was white-hot and unending.
And he didn’t stop. He guided her through, lapping at her as though her release was the sweetest nectar he’d ever tasted.
When she could breathe again, when her limbs returned to her, Charlotte’s eyes fluttered open to find him watching her reverently.
His lips were wet. His hair was a mess from her fingers. He looked completely undone.
And she’d never felt more beautiful in her life.
“Charlotte, you have arrived at last!” Uncle Henry called out as Charlotte and Seth walked to the front door of Hamilton House. He had appeared clad in tweeds and carrying a rifle on his shoulder from the direction of the park.
“Amelia, Uncle Henry,” Charlotte replied, “I am Amelia. Come from London to visit with my sister.”
“Good Lord!” Uncle Henry boomed, “Amelia? Are you certain? You look exactly like our Charlotte to me.”
“Quite sure, Uncle Henry,” she grimaced. “Charlotte and I are twins, after all.”
“Ah, yes, I had forgotten. And who might this charming fellow be?”
“His Grace, the Duke of Bellmonte,” Charlotte introduced.
Henry swiped his hat from his head instantly. “Your Grace, what an unexpected honor. I am not familiar with your family, but I don’t get down to London much. My estates here occupy much of my time.”
“You have a fine estate, Lord Stockton,” Seth commended, taking in the surroundings, “and a majestic house at that.”
