Felt like it, too.
Her legs wrapped around him, heels digging into the muscles of his arse. Her eyes closed, her head arched back; she was close, he felt it in the tension of her body. She was on the hunt for release, straining toward its promise as it taunted and tempted her just out of reach.
And seeing her so close brought him close. He wanted to prolong this union of their bodies—never wanted it to end, in fact. A nigh impossible feat with her reaching for climax with him inside her.
Perhaps Delilah had the right of it, and it would be best to get this tup out of the way.
No.
He tempered the rhythm of his hips and began entering her with slow deliberation. Her eyes flew open in outrage. She’d been so close and now he was denying her.
But he wasn’t.
This wasn’t a denial of pleasure.
This was a prolonging of it.
In and out of her, he moved, every part of themselves mingling—their breath, their sweat, their sexes. A taking of pleasure in the journey, not the end.
That was what beds were good for.
For taking one’s time, and doing it right.
The outrage drained from eyes, and in its place he detected surrender to sensation. She had much to learn about this act—this union—its ebbs and flows…the possibility that reached far beyond the shore.
But—too soon for his liking—his body’s demands would be put off no longer, and he found himself driving into her with focused intensity. Her body responded instantly, her hips angling to receive more of him. Greedy for it, in fact. “You’re a wanton, Lady Delilah.”
“Were you ever in doubt?” she asked between moans of pleasure.
Actually…“No.”
Some part of him had known these last few years that it would be like this between them.Greedy…insatiable…unquenchable.
An appetite ever unsated.
A thirst never quenched.
That was what existed between him and Delilah.
And ever would.
Relentlessly, he drove into her, pushing her to the brink of release. Then she tipped over just when he was certain he could no longer hold off his own climax. Mindlessly, he plunged in and out of her, shouting his release to the rafters beyond the coffered ceiling. They likely heard it in the ballroom.
He cared not.
He was Ravensworth.
And the woman beneath him presently floating outside her body in the exquisite ether of satiety was his future duchess.
His eyes drifted closed for a moment…
A faraway clock chimed one, and Sebastian’s eyes flew open in a sudden panic only assuaged when he registered Delilah’s body beside him. Her mask was gone.
“You drifted off,” she said, a little smile fluttering about her lips.
Lips that looked very much like they wanted to be kissed. He knew that look in her eyes.
And so did his cock, which was already at half-mast.
