He moved to the other thigh and untied that ribbon as well. Then he began to roll her stockings down, tracing the flesh he revealed with his tongue. He licked down her thigh, over her knee and across her calf. He nipped her ankle gently and she gasped at unexpected pleasure.
When he tossed the stocking over his shoulder, he cupped her opposite leg with both hands and glided back up the length of her until he could repeat the motion.
And now she was fully naked, splayed out on her bed, nothing to hide her or protect her. She was afraid, but not as much as she could be. Mostly she was excited, trembling with sensation, ready for him to cover her and let her feel his weight.
But he didn’t. When he reached her thigh with his tongue, this time he edged higher, opening her wider with his shoulders. “Sebastian,” she gasped, gripping his still-clothed shoulders as he licked her sex.
“Oh yes, say my name, Marianne. Say it over and over while you quake,” he grunted, and spread her open wider with his thumbs.
He dove into her sex, swirling his tongue across her, sucking her, doing all those wicked things she’d dreamed of since that night in the orangery. She lifted into him, clenching the edge of the bed with one hand while she tugged at his hair with the other. And all the while she moaned his name, her voice broken as he lifted her to the very highest peak of pleasure.
But he didn’t let her fall. Not like last time. He simply tortured, keeping her on the edge with expert precision. Only when she was trembling and bracing and reaching for pleasure did he pull away, his mouth slick with her juices, and rose to his full height.
Without breaking eye contact with her, he stripped out of his clothing at what could only be described as lightning speed. His jacket joined her dress on the floor, then his waistcoat. When he finally tugged the linen shirt over his head she gasped.
He was so stunningly beautiful. Like a statue in the museum, all angles and muscle. But he was alive. He was warm and moving, hers to touch, if only for this night.
He removed his boots with a strangled curse at the effort and then his trousers and there was his cock. That instrument of pain to some and pleasure to many. She had never seen one of those. All those statues she’d compared him to already had them covered or broken off in an attempt to force modesty. His was hard and jutted up against his stomach.
“I understand what the fuss is about,” she murmured as he returned to her with a wide smile.
“So many compliments,” he whispered. She reached for him, gripping his base, stroking to the head. He bent his head back over his shoulders and barked out, “Marianne!”
“Was that wrong or right?” she asked, hesitating.
“Very right,” he gasped. “Do it again.”
She stroked again and he looked into her eyes as he moaned. Just as when he’d touched her, she felt the tingle that answered. Pleasuring him was just as much a pleasure to her. But she wanted more than this.
She wanted the other things he’d described in such detail. She wanted to feel him inside of her, she wanted to be claimed at last.
“Please,” she whispered as she rested back on the bed.
He shook his head. “You dangling off the side is very nice when I eat your pretty pussy, but when I take you, you won’t be half off your bed. Onto the pillows, please.”
She scooted back and he crawled up with her, covering her at last. She expected him to take instantly, but he made no move to do so. He pushed her hair, which had come out of its style as they kissed and teased, out of her face and then leaned down to kiss her so very gently that it brought tears to her eyes.
She tasted herself on his lips, arousing and also proof that he was taking care of her. And she loved him for it. She’d felt that in the orangery, but it was more powerful now. More overwhelming and bigger.
She opened her eyes and looked up at him as he shifted to stroke his cock against her as promised. It felt so good that she whimpered.
In that moment he began to push into her body. The emotions mixed with the sensation of the invasion and she gasped as she lifted up into him, taking him farther inside. There was no pain, more a slight discomfort at being filled. But when he bent his head to kiss her again and held still inside of her, the discomfort faded. She was left only with the tingling power of being joined with this man she loved.
The echo of that truth kept ricocheting, meeting with his first full thrust and drawing her pleasure higher instantly. She gripped his bare shoulders, burying her face into his flesh and crying out in a muffled tone. He took again, rotating his hips to hers. She followed suit and the pleasure ticked higher again.
Over and over he took, each thrust drawing her back to the edge. Each mounting feeling making her heart swell even more.Thiswas the man she loved and he was doing this wonderful thing with her. This thing no one could take away. She felt the ripple of pleasure, increasing every time he moved, and then it turned to a torrent as wave after wave of release washed over her.
He thrust through it, a little faster now, a little harder, his hands tugging her closer, like they could merge in this moment of searing sensation. She almost believed they could, she certainly wished it were true.
His neck tensed, cords of tendons outlined on the flesh, and then he withdrew and stroked his cock. She leaned up again, watching as he came. It was different than when she did, for thick ropes of fluid came from the head of him, splashing hot on her stomach and thighs as he moaned low and hungry.
He collapsed down over her again, his arms coming around her, his mouth finding hers as their panting breaths merged and quieted together at last and this moment, the one he claimed they were stealing, washed over her. She knew three things as the warmth and comfort filled her: she was in love and she never wanted this to end.
But she also knew that it would. That was the thing she knew most. It would end. Because whatever she felt, Sebastian didn’t. And she had to keep herself from being too tied up in wanting him to return those feelings or else she would end up with a broken heart.
CHAPTER 16
Sebastian had never been one to lounge in bed with a lover, and yet the idea of letting Marianne go and departing her room felt unbearable. She was curled so beautifully into his side, so warm and perfect in his arms. He wanted to sleep here next to her. He wanted to wake up in a few hours and roll over to pleasure her all over again.
