Aubrey was resignedto his fate.
If he hadn’t already been going to perdition, that was most assuredly his inevitable destination now. But as Rhiannon so enthusiastically came beneath the play of his fingers and tongue, her thighs clamping on his head, he decided that eternal damnation was utterly worth it.
And he would defy both heaven and hell to be inside her again.
He gave her another slow, soothing lick as the last wave of her pinnacle ebbed. She tasted better than any ripe berry or hothouse fruit ever could. He couldn’t get enough. He’d known, of course, that he should stay away. He had done what she asked him to. There was no need to continue debauching her.
But he couldn’t resist. He had her for the next few days that remained in the house party. Why should he deny himself? Moreover, why should he deny her? Rhiannon was a naturally passionate woman. It was a sin for her to never taste true desire.
He kissed her clitoris and caressed her thighs as he lifted his head.
“Are you sore, love?”
Her creamy skin was flushed, her hair was a wild tangle over the pillow, and her eyes were a dark, sparkling blue he could easily forget himself in. Her nipples were sweet, erotic points beckoning him, the swells of her breasts equally inviting. More than a handful. Enough to overflow his palms. He wondered what they would look like coated in his spend. His cock, already rigid in his trousers, grew even harder at the thought.
“A bit,” she said breathlessly, running her fingers through his hair in an adoring caress he couldn’t help but to find erotic. “But not too sore for more sexual congress, if that’s what you’re asking.”
He winced. “Do stop calling it that, if you please.”
“What would you have me call it, then?” She ruffled his hair some more.
It was ridiculous, the way she liked playing with his hair, but he didn’t complain. He rather liked the way it felt.
“Fucking,” he told her and then licked his lips, savoring the taste of her.
She smiled down at him, brushing a lock of hair from his forehead now. He thought he might happily spend the rest of the house party right here, between her legs, with a glorious view of her pink, perfect pussy.
“I’m not too sore for more fucking,” said the minx. “Unless you’re too tired, that is…”
“Ha! I ought to spank your luscious derriere.” He gently bit her inner thigh. “I’ve never in my life been too tired to fuck.”
Her expression grew serious, though her hand still sifted through his hair. “I suppose you’ve had very many lovers.”
Damn. He dragged his whiskers along her sensitive skin. Poor choice of words. He didn’t want his past lovers interferingin the present. Because he couldn’t shake the feeling that of all the women he’d bedded and those he may one day seduce, none would compare to her. The acknowledgment settled deep into his marrow, unavoidable as the sun rising every morning. The way he felt for Rhiannon simplywas.
“I suppose you’ve only had one,” he said teasingly instead of answering.
Him. And dear God, how he wanted to be the only one. But she deserved so much better, and he was not a man who could offer himself to a woman in matrimony. He would never visit such misfortune upon her.
“For now.” Her expression turned serious.
Almost sad.
He couldn’t bear that. Nor could he bear thinking of any other man in her bed. Or, for that matter, any other woman in his. So Aubrey did what he did best, which was seducing. He brushed aside the breakfast plate, sending it and the remainder of fruit and meat to the floor, and then he rolled to his back, bringing Rhiannon with him so that she straddled him, naked.
Naked and so damned erotic.
“Enough of that for now,” he said. “It’s time for your lessons to continue.”
She flattened her palms on his chest and leaned over him, her hair falling in riotous waves around her face and down over her breasts. “Another lesson? But you’re fully clothed.”
Disappointment laced her voice, and he might have laughed at his impatient minx if he weren’t about to spend in his trousers like a green young man touching his first bare bubby.
“Your bawdy books were woefully lacking in creativity,” he told her, reaching for the fall of his trousers and flicking open the first few buttons.
“Oh,” she murmured as he reached inside the placket and withdrew his erect cock. “I’m beginning to think they were.”
He stroked his length, swirling the moisture seeping from his tip over his crown. “Fortunately, I’m here to rectify that sad state of affairs.”
