“Which part of me, Bess?” he asked wickedly. “My tongue?” He caught the hand that was nestled against his shoulder and brought it to his lips, sucking her forefinger into his mouth and swirling his tongue over it before releasing her. “My fingers?” The hand on her back glided down her spine, past her bottom, and his fingers dipped into her folds from behind to tease. “Or my cock?” At the last, he thrust himself into her hand.
She stroked him just the way she knew he liked and smiled back at him, feeling deliriously contented and desperately yearning all at once. “All three.”
“That’s my girl.” Grinning, he took her in his arms and rolled them, so that she was on her back, and he was atop her, his body a warm, welcome weight. “I’m happy to oblige.”
His lips found hers, the kiss slow and deep, a promise of more, stoking her need ever higher with each tender brush of his mouth and sinuous glide of his tongue. She reveled in him. He was all hard sinews and planes, smooth, hot skin. Each flex of his body brought them closer, and he kissed her as if his next breath depended on it. Her fingertips traveled over his muscled shoulders, her entire world condensed to this chamber, this man, the love they shared.
Years ago, she had thought herself in love with him. But those old emotions paled compared to the depth of emotion she felt for him now. In his arms, she was loved and protected and cherished. Her fears and doubts had been firmly cast aside since that day at Hamilton House. Together, they were one.
Together, they were formidable.
Torrie broke the kiss to drag his lips along her jaw, down her throat. “Which shall I give my lady first?” he asked against her skin.
At the question, his hand slid between their bodies, lightly cupping her aching sex.
Instinctively, she rocked against that touch, needing more. “Whatever my lord prefers,” she answered breathlessly.
“Carte blanche,” he growled. “I approve.”
He strummed her pearl and kissed down the curve of her breast before taking the peak in his mouth for a hard suck that she felt deep in her core. Still playing with her, he laved attention on both breasts, licking and nipping and suckling until she was writhing beneath him.
Just when she was sure she could endure no more, he kissed down her belly, where she had always thought she had been far too rounded.
“My beautiful Bess,” he said, the veneration in his voice melting her as his wicked mouth continued dropping worshipful kisses along her bare body. “I think I’ll give you my tongue first. My tongue in your gorgeous, dripping cunny.”
Wetness sluiced from her at his words, her sex pulsing with new need. His clever fingers left her as he shifted himself so that he was more fully between her legs, his palms caressing her inner thighs to guide them apart.
“Would you like that?” he asked, his thumbs gently dipping into her folds to reveal her swollen clitoris to his avid gaze.
He blew a hot stream of air over her.
She whimpered, unable to keep the desperate noise from fleeing her throat. “Yes.”
“Do you know how perfect you look like this?” His dark head lowered, and he rewarded her with one stroke of his tongue.
She wanted him to tell her. Wanted him to say wicked things to her.
And he knew what she wanted without her needing to ask.
“All pink and wet and pretty, ready to come for me again.” Another slow lick. “I love the way you taste. So sweet.” His tongue flicked her pearl. “You like to come for me, don’t you? You want it so badly.”
“Yes,” she hissed, on the edge already from their earlier lovemaking and now nearly out of her mind from his sinful words and teasing play.
“Tell me what to do.” He sipped at her tenderly, as if she were a delicacy.
“Make me come,” she said, part plea, part command.
“My sweet Bess, I thought you’d never ask.”
He latched on to her aching bud, sucking just as she wanted, and plunged his fingers inside her, where she was dripping and needy. Her wetness mingled with his seed from their earlier lovemaking, the wet sounds of him sliding in and out of her sinful and filthy.
“So wet,” he whispered approvingly against her sex, fingers probing deep. “Your cunt is dripping.”
It was. She could feel it sliding from her, coating his fingers as he filled her, pressing on that same place of excruciating pleasure only he could find. And she didn’t care that she was making a mess of him, a mess of the bed. All she cared about was the sensation he was coaxing from her body. His tongue flicked over her faster, and she tipped back her head on the pillow, eyes closing, losing herself.
Her orgasm hit her so suddenly and unexpectedly that she cried out, body shuddering as wave after wave of uncontrollable bliss washed over her. He withdrew his fingers and replaced them with his tongue, licking inside her as the ripples of her release continued to roll through her.
She moaned his name, thoroughly boneless and mindless. He moved again with lightning quickness, dragging his body along hers so that they were hip to hip and breast to chest, his hard cock aligned with her sex.
