He wrinkled his brow. “That is the most unromantic invitation I’ve ever received. After I have licked you to completion and kissed you until you were breathless and promised you orgasms that would shake your legs to exhaustion—do you really thinkthatis how it works?”
“I don’t know how it works,” she admitted with a roll of her eyes. “You’resupposed to teach me.”
Once again he laughed and her chest swelled. She’d expected this to be fraught, and it was. The tension between them was high, the future so cloudy that it was impossible to see.
But he also made it…easy. He made it fun. She never wanted that to end, even if she knew it would.
He crawled up on the bed, gliding over her like a cat the same way he had back in the Donville Masquerade. Only this time he was naked and his cock bumped her thigh as he lowered himself over her. His mouth found hers again and he kissed her, this time gently. Almost reverently. Like a bridegroom tending to his bride on the sacred night of their wedding.
She pushed that thought from her mind and wrapped her arms around him, and all but melted into the pillows. His hands moved as he kissed her, fingertips tracing her collarbone, her shoulder, down her side, her hip. She arched beneath him with a whimper, sucking his tongue a little harder in mute demand. He flexed his hips in response, his cock bumping her harder.
Then his mouth glided away, down the side of her throat. He sucked her flesh just to the edge of pain, but never beyond, nibbling as he made a lazy path along her shoulder, down her chest, to her breast. She was ready for him this time in a way she hadn’t been the first time. When he caught her nipple between his teeth and tugged gently, she dug her hands into his thick hair and held him there so he could suck and circle and pleasure her.
He did all those things, taking his time as he set her body on fire. He repeated all those actions on the opposite breast and then moved lower, down the apex of her body. She shivered as his finger dug into her hips, holding her steady as he rubbed the rough whiskers on his cheek against her belly. Her breath hitched at the sensation and she whispered his name in encouragement.
Not that he needed any. The man seemed utterly focused and utterly certain of every move he made as his lips slid over her belly. Lower. Closer to her sex.
She wanted him there, so very badly. She wanted that intense explosion she’d been trying to replicate since almost the moment the ripples faded. She wanted him between her legs, those blue eyes watching her as he drove her mad with pleasure.
He grinned as if he could read her mind and pushed her legs wide with his shoulders as he settled between them. But he didn’t put his mouth there. Instead, he gently traced her outer lips with his fingertips. Too gently. She wanted more.
“Have you touched yourself?” he asked, using his thumbs to peel her open and expose her to his gaze.
Heat flooded her cheeks, but she nodded. “Yes.”
“Before I touched you?” he pressed, massaging gently.
“Yes,” she gasped, for when he touched her just so her body reacted like it was flint to a dry piece of timber. “And since.”
“Very good,” he whispered, and bent his head, licking the length of her with one sweep. She hissed at the electric pleasure of it, but he drew back instead of repeating the action. “And have you ever put a finger inside of yourself?”
She lifted her head a fraction to stare down at him. She worried her lip as she shook her head. “N-No.”
He arched a brow and reached up to catch one hand. He drew it down, pressed a kiss to her palm and then settled it between her legs so that her fingers tangled with his own. “Do it.”
“Aren’t you meant to—”
“I will, angel. I will,” he promised, those blue eyes dilating as his smile grew even more wicked than before. “But I want you to understand your body. I want you to know what will happen. To help me make it less painful.”
She swallowed. Yes, she’d heard all about the pain from grumpy female relatives who told her and her sisters to lay back and think of their duty. But her sisters had whispered far different tales when it came to what was about to happen. Stories of pleasure and bonding and a deepening of connection that changed everything.
Juliana chose to believe them. She brought herself up on one elbow and positioned her fingers at her entrance. It was wet already, both from Ellis’s tongue and from her own increasing excitement, so when she slid her fingers over herself, there was only powerful pleasure. She ground against herself a little with a tiny moan.
“Great God,” he muttered, shifting against the bed. “You’ll unman me before I even put myself inside of you.”
“How is that possible?” she asked, her tone garbled as she pressed her fingers harder to her clitoris.
“Because watching you do that is infinitely arousing,” he grunted, his gaze focused on the show she was performing. “Now gently press a finger inside.”
She nodded and pressed her index finger to her entrance. Slowly, she breached the entrance, wiggling her way into the tight channel. Inside was warm, wet, the flesh a little rough. It wasn’t an unpleasant sensation, but it felt very tight. When she moved her finger, there was the tiniest flash of pain.
She glanced at him. “I can hardly bear this. How will I take that?”
He shrugged. “It will stretch. We’ll go slowly.” He leaned in. “May I?”
She nodded as his fingers tangled with hers. He pressed a thumb to her clitoris, swirling it there with expert pressure as he encouraged her to thrust the finger she’d put inside herself. As she did so, she dipped her head back. Oh, that was good. That felt very good. So good that she hardly noticed when he placed one of his own fingers at her entrance. Then he was inside and the channel stretched a bit more to accommodate. Their fingers touched and she opened her eyes.
He held her stare and smiled as she circled her hips against his hand, against her own. The pleasure increased as they ground together, dragging her to the edge of the cliff where she could feel what was about to happen.
