He shook his head.He had enough happening right now without imaginingthat.
He rocked her hips back towards him, so that he entered her to the hilt.She let out a guttural sound that pleased him beyond belief.
He pushed her forward and rocked out of her at the same time and was rewarded with another such sound from her.
“God, Leith.”
“Thomas,” he corrected, frowning, and rocking her back onto him.
“Fuck, yes, Thomas.”
He repeated the motion and, each time, as he did it, she moaned aloud.
But he needed more.
“Does it feel good?”he asked.
He never asked such questions in bed.But with Beatrice it was somehow possible.
“It feels so good.Your cock is so good.”
He stilled at that.
No woman had ever said anything of the sort to him before.
He thought of Lady Killston’s gesture and her words from many years ago.
He thought of that courtesan in the brothel.Oh, a small one.
Was Beatrice mocking him?
Now she rocked against him of her own volition.For a moment, he was buried inside of her.It sent cascades of pleasure through him.
“Don’t stop,” Beatrice said.“Please.”
His pleasure and confusion were at terrible odds.
“Don’t say that.”
He was still motionless.
“Say what?”
“About my cock.”
“I don’t understand.Don’t say that your cock feels good?”
“I’ve asked you not to say things you don’t mean.”
“Thomas,” she said, rocking back and forward once more, and making them both cry out.“I mean exactly what I say.”
She rocked back again so that he was impaled within her.Then she rocked forward so that only the tip of his cock was inside of her.She sunk down again and he felt himself come a bit into the French letter.
“Fuck.”
“I have no idea,” she said, withdrawing herself again, “why you assume I am lying.”
She sank down on him again.
