Too talented.
He reached out and twined his fingers through silken sable hair, resisting the primal need to urge her on until climax took him.
No.
That way lay regret.
“My sweet,” he said.
Her eyes slitted open, a question within.
“You need to stop, or…” The sentence could finish itself.
Slowly, she slid her mouth off him, and a groan dragged through him. He could reach out and pull her atop him and be inside her in a matter of seconds, satisfying these base urges that demanded satiation.
But an intrusion of reality stopped him.
Tomorrow was the final day of the house party.
Tonight could be their last time.
And if tonight was the last time, he wanted it to be worth remembering.
He lifted her chemise over her head and tossed it aside. Naked, she rose and stood before him. It occurred to him that he’d never adored her properly. “You are so beautiful.”
A flicker of doubt passed behind her eyes. She might have winced. She didn’t see herself as he saw her.
“Beatrix,” he said, reaching for her hips and bringing her close, so close he was able to press his mouth to the soft stretch of skin between navel and mons pubis. His gaze lifted. “You are beautiful.”
His fingers tightened around her waist as he pulled her onto the bed. He made short work of his remaining clothing beneath her unflinching gaze.
“Youare beautiful,” she said.
He knew women saw him so.
And he knew his male beauty helped him get some of what he wanted in life—like a beautiful woman in his bed when he wanted her.
But with this beautiful woman… He had to be more than a beautiful specimen to have her.
And that she deemed him so… Well, it was a special thing.
She reached up and hooked her hand around his neck, pulling him onto the bed. Their bodies, his large and bulky… hers slender and lissome, stretched along the length of one another, opposites in every way…complementary in every way, too. His mouth met hers, and she rolled onto her back, pulling him atop her, settling him between her legs, his manhood poised and ready.
He entered her slowly…measuredly. “Oh, Dev” she sighed into his mouth as he began stroking in and out of her, her hips in rhythm with his. She was so tight around him. The experiencefor her had to be the push and pull of pleasure and pain, that sweet middling place achieved only by this act. Deeper, he drove into her, taking her bottom in hand, angling her hips to take him in yet more fully. Sweat pinpricked his skin, beaded down the side of his face, down the hollow of his spine.
On it went, as he maintained control and worked her body, found what pleasured her…what drove her wild…what would drive her to climax. Her gaze went interior with the pleasure received, and she began squeezing him tighter. She was reaching…striving… Climax had begun to tease at her. He steadied himself and paid attention as he thrust into her.
Her head arched back, digging into the mattress, a cry pouring from her that was equal parts pleasure and frustration.There.She liked her hips angled just so…his strokes just that deep…
The breath caught in her chest. Release was holding her in that specific exquisite tension just before it broke within her, leaving her crying out, her quim fluttering and pulsing around his cock, her fingernails digging into his back as he kept moving inside her, his rhythm slowed for the moment. But it wasn’t long before his own release began to pull at him.
“Oh, Dev,” she said, awash in satiety.
It was the feel of her that drove him wild.
But it was that look in her eyes—the look he’d put there—that pulled him over the edge into madness.
He was mad for this woman, who could slay him with a single sated glance, a curl of pleasure on her mouth. He kissed that mouth—how could he resist?—and poured unnameable emotion into this act.
