Sweet.
Lord.
Roland sucked her pearl just as he had her nipple. He drew on her, long and slow, following the action with the flicking of his tongue over her. Sensation jolted through her.
Bloody incredible!That was what it was.
He sucked, then played with her, that knowing tongue of his rolling over her pearl, flicking the underside where she was most sensitive. She jerked into him. He kissed her mound.
“Keep watching,” he told her.
Did he think she would stop? There was something impossibly erotic about watching and experiencing simultaneously. She could not have imagined such an act would appeal to her. But then, she was beginning to suspect she had hardly begun to know herself. There was so much waiting for her. So much to experience, to enjoy.
Beginning now, this night, with this man she had wed.
“I am watching,” she reassured him, the last word ending in a moan as he sucked on her once more.
Dear heavens.He was going to destroy her. She would be nothing but ash by the morning, she was sure of it.
He flicked his tongue over her, side to side, then drew it down her seam. And then, in the next moment, he was inside her. Nothing but the slick glide of his tongue.
“Oh,” she managed, surging forward in an instinctive reaction, trying to get him deeper.
It was too much.
It was everything she could have never imagined.
He licked into her again, then paused to kiss her inner thigh. “I love the way you taste.”
She lovedeverythingabout him.
But she kept that bit to herself as his low words were her undoing. “Roland, I need you, please.”
She reached for his upper arms, thinking to pull him to his feet so they could go to the bed. But how foolish to think she could force a man of his size to do anything he did not wish.
“Patience, Sunshine.”
She wanted to tell him she did not have any patience remaining, that she wanted him inside her now, but he was far too intent upon pleasuring her. And she was far too susceptible to his seductions. He returned his attentions to the bud hidden within her folds. The suction of his mouth and the clever working of his tongue were almost her complete undoing this time.
And then he added a finger. Just one at first, thrusting deep, finding that same splendid place he had discovered before.
Words spilled from her lips. She did not know which ones, or what they meant. For all she knew, they could have been an endless string of epithets. She was mindless. This was a new type of pleasure. He inserted another finger, curled them in such a way that made her writhe against him, the pleasure so exquisite it was almost painful.
“Yes,” he said into her sex, urging her on. “Come for me. Come on my tongue.”
His raw, sensual abandon was intoxicating. He made her feel shameless and desirable. The sensations were magnified by the reflection of the couple she watched in the looking glass. The man, so strong and powerful, his shoulders broad, dressing gown pulled taut over his broad back to delineate the sternness of his spine and the flat blades of his shoulders, along with the sinews of his lower back. The flexed muscles of his upper arms beneath the same fabric. The wild, ebony hair. The way he knelt before the wanton who watched it all and experienced it simultaneously.
Difficult to believe the woman in the mirror was her. She looked bolder and stronger than she had in as long as she could recall. The dainty waif she had come to know was not looking back at her now. Rather, the woman she had become was. And that woman was not nearly as weak as she had once supposed.
Roland had taught her that.
Just as he was teaching her to revel in the pleasure he could bring her now.
He caught her pearl in his teeth and gave her a gentle nibble as his fingers slid in and out of her wetness.
His tongue flicked over her. “Look at how beautiful the woman in the mirror is. Do you see?”
“I see myself,” she said, breathless as his tongue played over her in slow, decadent circles.
