“How deliciously you curl my name in your mouth. No, it’s not yours anymore.Mymouth.”
Her speech and motor functions were blown into smithereens. And when his fingers climbed past the silk of her garter and found the bare skin of her inner thigh, Prim had to bite down on her own lip to keep her cry from being heard across all of London.
He took that as encouragement to keep going. And if her melted body was not indication enough, surely the way she moved to meet his searing touch, impatient and wanton, relayed a clear message. Shame painted her cheeks red. Or it might have been lust that made her skin inflamed.
She didn’t know what it was she craved, but she knew that his touch wasn’t close enough.
“Please,” she begged.
His response was a long lick on her neck as he adjusted her on his lap, just enough, just so that her legs fell a little open. She looked down at herself, barely recognizing the sight. On one side, her skirt fell with the intended cascade of fabric over her thighs and his legs. But it was merely an illusion. On the other side, it was gathered high on her thigh, exposing her from the knee up, his hand scandalously dipped in the space between her thighs.
“I have more to claim, Prim,” he rumbled.
“Yes,” she surrendered completely.
He chuckled, a dark, satisfied sound, and his fingers moved higher. Until he met her core, the aching, desperate center of her existence. His touch was deft, capable, torturous. He caressed her folds, once, slowly, a soft, testing stroke that tore a ragged sob from her throat. There were no more limits. She had incinerated them all. For Prim, the universe had collapsed to this single, searing point of contact. And still, it was not enough.
“Leo, please.”
“This is mine,” he growled, his thumb circling the sensitive apex of her need, making her jerk against him. “All of it. Say it.”
Prim’s eyes snapped open, meeting his. The heat she saw there, raw, possessive, utterly feral, floored her. It was the look of a predator poised to devour its prize. In that moment, Prim did not mind being devoured. She welcomed it. She needed it. Now.
“Say it, Prim.”
“It’s yours,” she gasped, her body bowing into his touch. “All yours. Please.”
Her words became a trigger that unleashed him. A deep, guttural sound echoed in his chest, shaking her very existence. A storm hit her all at once. His mouth returned to her neck not to kiss, but to consume. His other hand claimed her breast once more, molded against the orb. His thumb and finger closed around a pebbled peak rolling and pinching, walking that thin line between pleasure and pain.
His hand between her legs began its exploration. His fingers, sleek with her own readiness, found their own rhythm. The friction against her core was relentless. Each stroke designed to own and claim her.
His mouth moved lower to her rib cage. He sucked deeply, his tongue leaving the fleshsensitive until she sobbed and cried. His hand between her thighs never lost its pace. He circled her, put pressure on that little bundle that seemed to hide every secret.
“Mine, all mine. Every sigh. Every tremor. Mine.”
Prim felt overloaded, overwhelmed, this cataclysm of thoughts and sensation were rendering her logic useless. White-hot need came over her, and she ground herself against that sinful hand. All she could do was choke out broken sounds from her throat. Her whole world became his mouth, his hands, his teeth, his lips.
“Your pleasure is your need. Give it to me, Prim.”
“Oh,” she sighed. “Oh, please. I...”
Her sighs became his challenge. The fingers around her breast became persistent, his thumb teasing her again and again. His tongue mapped her skin, his teeth dug deeper. And those fingers! He focused on that peak between her legs, going over it round and round as if winding her. Till she snapped.
A rising tide came over her, the waves drowning her in a silent tremor she felt to her very core. Her back arched violently, her fingers clawing at his shoulders as the world dissolved into pure, blinding release.
“Leo!”
He held her through the last tremor, his breath hot and ragged against her neck, his fingers slowing down but not stopping. He dragged out every little drop of her pleasure till she couldn't take it anymore. She tried to move back away from his touch, but he didn't allow it. One long stroke from her wet core to her peaked pebble and she cried out again.
“I will take it all, Prim. For me, all of it.”
As Prim got down from the heights of her ecstasy, she realized with dread that this man would claim even more than that.
CHAPTER 14
The Weight Of Lace
“Prim! Are you ready?”
