He tried to pull her off him, and sheswattedhis hands away.
“It’s my turn to taste you.” Her eyes shone with sultry resolve. “Sliding down my throat.”
Jesus wept.She’d thrown his own words back at him.
He gripped her head as she sucked him. Her cheeks hollowed with her decadent pulls. The stars overhead blurred as white-hot pleasure streaked through him, threatening to burn him alive. Even as his hips bucked into her generous kiss and he spilled himself with a roar, he was aware of the part of him that remained hungry. The frenzied beast Pippa had awakened. And at that moment, he knew.
He would never have enough of this woman. He wanted more. Everything, everything.
Fear reared its ugly head. But desire beat it down, growling that he would have this moment—this one bloody moment—for himself. He dragged her mouth to his, the taste of himself a depraved thrill. She made a sound halfway between a laugh and a moan when he began tearing at her clothes. Between the two of them, they got her naked, and he wasted no time in hoisting her over him, positioning her cunny over his mouth. Clamping his hands on her hips, he guided her to ride his face.
He groaned at her dripping arousal. He licked the length of her juicy slit, from her pearl all the way to her pleated rosebud. She jerked in surprise, then moaned as he swirled his tongue there before going back and thrusting inside her proper entrance. He grunted as her quim clenched, shoving her hips down as he fucked her with his tongue. Her knees trembled against his jaw and she came, chanting his name.
Breathing hard, suffused with the taste of her pleasure, he slid her down his body. With her hair flowing loose over her shoulders, she was a sensual mermaid, her pink-tipped breasts bobbing seductively.
He palmed the flawless apple-sized mounds, grazing his thumbs over the ripe peaks. “I still have to make good on my promise to suckle you here thoroughly.”
“All right,” she breathed.
In her passion-flushed face, he saw his fantasy come true: she wasn’t nearly done. By God, she was perfect—and he had to have her. Now.
“I’ll do it while I’m inside you,” he decided.
“Oh.” Her eyes rounded. “But what about…”
“I have a French letter.”
He’d put one in the pocket of his discarded jacket.
She arched her brows. “Confident, were you?”
He grinned at her prim tone. Trust Pippa to sound ladylike while draped naked over him.
“Just optimistic.” Reaching down, he brought his cock to her cunny, dragging his crown along her silky-wet petals. Shuddering at how good she felt. “Was I wrong to be so?”
“No,” she gasped. “Hurry and—”
Hinges squealed, and Mikey’s voice called from the doorway, “You in ’ere, Cull?”
Biting out an oath, Cull rolled over Pippa, shielding her naked body with his own.
“What did I say about privacy?” he barked.
“This is important.”
At Mikey’s stark tone, Cull stilled. “What is it?”
“An ’our ago, that cove Hastings was shot dead.”
24
The next morning, Charlie, Pippa, and the Angels (minus Fiona, who had once again been detained by her family) convened at the Nest. They were accompanied by Mrs. Peabody and Hawker. As Fair Molly led the contingent into the great hall, Mrs. Peabody surveyed the dirty windows, stained furnishings, and cluttered tables.
“Does the Prince of Larks not employ a housekeeper?” she said in an undertone to Pippa.
“Apparently no one wants the job,” Pippa whispered back.
“I wonder why.” Mrs. Peabody looked at a pair of mudlarks engaged in a gleeful food fight, a shudder going through her slender frame. “Goodness, what is that child doing?”
