It was all Percy needed.
Gaze refusing to release hers, he brought her finger to his mouth, and she drank in a quick sip of air that caught in her chest. His tongue stroked across the tip, and he tasted her.Metallic. Bitter. Sweet.With a guttural growl, he took her finger inside his mouth and sucked.
She gasped.
It felt perverse, this pulling of blood from her, but there was no part of her he didn’t want to taste.
His mouth moved to her palm slightly sticky with a thin sheen of perspiration, to her wrist, thin blue veins beating a fast pulse beneath his lips. The only sound in the room was the shallow in-and-out scrape of her breath against her throat. A flush the hue of a dusky pink rose crept up her décolletage, up the length of her neck, brightening her cheeks. Desire was writ across her face, in the sway of her body forward. She enjoyed it, this being tasted.
He retreated an inch, and distress crinkled her brow. He rather enjoyed holding her in the palm of his hand. “Here is the thing about me that you should know, Isabel,” he said in a raspy voice that he hardly recognized as his own.
He reached down and lifted her feet to his lap. Her brow crinkled further, this time in curiosity. He began unlacing her boots.
“Once I start to indulge, I can’t stop.”
One, then the other, boot clattered to the floor. He feathered light fingertips along the instep of her foot, tickled toes curling, to her ankle, to the hem of her dress primly in place just above.
“You were correct in one regard the other night.”
He didn’t need to clarify which night. They both knew.
“Oh?”
“The deprivation. Ihadbecome addicted to it, if only for its safe haven against my true nature.” His hand roved higher, pushing her dress above her knees where her white cotton stockings were held up by light blue satin garters. He started to untie them and stopped. They could stay. The blood quickened in his veins and rushed straight to his cock, which was already at half-mast.
“But now I’ve tastedyou.” He pushed her dress higher, bare thigh revealed to the light of day.
“What are you—” she began, breathless. “What are you doing?”
He ignored the question. “Like so many wretches bound to an addiction, once I have a taste, I’m lost.” He tore his gaze from her exposed flesh and met her eyes. Once he caught sight of her sweet quim, there would be no stopping him. “I’ve never gotten the knack of satiety.”
He met a question in her eyes. She truly had no idea what he was about. Yet he met permission to carry her into the unknown.
His cock swelled into hard readiness, and he tried to tamp down its expectations. This was about a different sort of pleasure.
He nudged her dress a few inches higher until, at last, her cunny was revealed, the mound of curly hair dark against her skin, bathed in the full wash of midday sun that poured through the window. Primitive ache welled inside him.Mine.“Spread your legs for me, Isabel.”
Her body went rigid with sudden tension. “Spread my legs?” she whispered, shocked, yes, but also . . .intrigued.She wanted to see what he would do next.
She bent her knees and blossomed for him like the wild rose she was, revealing her pink and glistening quim by slow increments. Lust streaked through him as he bent forward, his hands reaching beneath her sweet bottom, sliding her toward him, even as he positioned himself between her legs, resting one of her feet onto his shoulder.
“What are you—?” began a protest he knew propriety would demand.
With great reluctance, he lifted his head. “Do you trust me?”
She took her plump lower lip between her teeth, indecision writ across her face. A trio of rapid heartbeats galloped past. At last, her lip released, and she spoke the only word in a language of a hundred thousand that he wanted to hear. “Yes.”
Unable to hold himself in check an instant longer, he bent his head, inhaled the scent of her, sunshine and honeysuckle andwoman, and touched his tongue toher.
“Lord Percival!”
He almost corrected that prim, breathlessLord Percival!, but decided he rather liked it. He stroked his tongue along the wet length of her slit.
A breathy, “Oh,” slid from Isabel’s throat. She threw one arm over her head as her hips tilted up and legs fell open wider. She had to have more of what his tongue offered. He smiled against her and flicked.
The fingers of her other hand wove through his hair and clenched. “Oh, that is nice.” She wasn’t shy about her desire. Yet one more thing he liked about her.
“Onlynice?”
