But a part of him wanted this to be good for her, better than it had ever been before, which was incendiary. Before had always been about control, about slating his desire and she hers. It had been nothing more than physical want. This... This was different.
Lucien kissed her throat, her cheek, her ear... Everything but her mouth, that sweet, treacherous mouth that consumed his thoughts. Curling his fists in her hair, he dragged her head back and bit her chin. Every thought he owned was broken down to its base equation.
I need...
I want...
Her...
I want her...
"Lucien." His name was raw on her sweet tongue.
"What do you want?"
"This." Hands caught his, dragging them lower until they filled with soft flesh.
Her magnificent breasts. So lush and full... as if they'd been made for a man's attention. Cotton rumpled under his touch as he stroked her nightgown out of the way. Ianthe shuddered, and something that sounded almost animalistic burst from her throat. "Yes. Please, yes."
Lucien's mouth dipped, his deft hands parting the cotton. A darkened nipple sprang into view, taut and quivering with her hastened breath. His hot mouth closed over it.
Delicious.
It was his turn to make that rough, raw sound in his throat. Tongue swirling in teasing little circles, he looked up at her flushed, abandoned expression. The sight of it made him bold. Grabbing hold of her nightgown, he tore it in two, halfway to her thighs.
Ianthe gasped, capturing his upper arms in surprise. Then her gaze softened, growing heavy-lidded, as she arched back, offering him her body. Passion filled her gaze as he ripped again with slow, heated jerks, until she lay revealed, the flush of candlelight painting her skin with a golden glow. A Botticelli in all its glory. Soft curves, ebony hair, and the faint shell-pink flush of sweetness gleaming wetly between her thighs.
Lucien traced trembling fingers down between her breasts and lower, trailing off as he reached the thatch of dark curls between her thighs. "You are... breathtakingly beautiful." On the return, his hands slid up her sides, parting the cotton, even as her faint, quivering breaths made her breasts lift and fall. "You feel like silk beneath my touch."
He lowered his face, tracing his tongue around her navel. "Like a feast for a starving man."
One that he ached to partake of. But first... her. Her pleasure. His ruin.
A tremor ran over her skin as he slowly tipped her backward until she lay on top of the piano. The leash of his control slipped away from him, his fingers sinking into her hips with slightly less care than he should have owned when touching something so precious.
Dragging her to the edge, he hooked her bare feet up on his shoulders and leaned over her. Glistening pink flesh teased him from behind those dark curls. He drank her in, breath teasing her.
"Lucien." It obviously unnerved her to be so on display before him.
"No shyness, love. Not between us." Thumbs spreading those tender pink folds, he took his time, licking her from end to end. A slow taunting movement. One to drive her out of her mind.
Ianthe arched her back, her heels digging into his shoulders. "Lucien!"
She tasted divine. Lucien nuzzled in again, tasting her and teasing her. Hands cupping her rounded bottom, he laid waste to her, drowning himself in that heated flesh until she was crying out softly, her fingers curling through his hair.
A strangled sound burst from her throat as he slid a finger deep inside her, curling it up to stroke her there. Then she was tensing around him, her head thrown back with a gasp, as sweet tension exploded within her.
"Yes. Yes, oh please, Lucien..." Ianthe writhed on the piano through her release. "Please. More."
Biting at the soft flesh of her breast, he fumbled with his trousers. His erection sprang to hand, hard and aching, and Lucien tore the packet of the sheath open with his teeth. Ianthe reached between them, tugging the oiled sheath from his hands and sliding it over his engorged length. That invisible tickle of touch explored the length of his hard shaft, earning a hiss from his throat. God. He groaned, his balls drawn up tight. It wasn't going to take much tonight.
"Now," she whispered, as he dragged his cock over her lush, wet opening. "Take me now."
"As you wish." Lucien sank forward, into her tight, wet, satiny heat. "Oh God." He made a strangled sound in his throat. This was bliss. Heaven on earth. Everything.
The first thrust spilled noise from the piano, but the storm drowned it out. Slow and steady, a soft sinking into of flesh. Ianthe was having none of that however.
"Faster," she whispered, her fingers closing in his hair and her legs wrapping around his hips. "More."
