He let out a strangled groan as her lips slid down his length. “Wh-what lesson is this meant to—” He broke off in a gasp as her tongue swirled around the head of his cock. “Teach me?”
She pulled her mouth off of him. “No lesson,” she murmured, giving him a languorous stroke with her hand. Tonight was different, not about lessons, but about celebrating the fact that they were alive, and together, and loved each other. “Well, perhaps the lesson is how to endure this without spilling in my mouth.”
“You don’t want that?” His voice became hoarse as she resumed the play of her lips and tongue over him. He laid his hand on the back of her head, a caress.
“Not there. Not today.” She took him as deep as she was able, filling her mouth with his girth. The feel of him in her mouth, against her tongue, made her quim pulse in yearning.
His sharp gasp rewarded her effort, along with the spasmodic tightening of his hand in her hair. “I fear—I fear I’m going to fail your lesson.”
She withdrew, arching an eyebrow at him. “So soon?”
He scowled. “You know what you do to me.”
She rose to her feet and shed her dress in one quick movement, then climbed into bed. His eyes darkened with hunger as she pulled him down to lie next to her. The feelingof her bare skin against his was a warm, gentle pleasure like no other.
He put his hand on her hip, starting to draw her on top of him, but she shook her head. “I want you like this,” she said, maneuvering herself beneath him. Tonight, she wanted to feel completely possessed, taken by him.
He settled his weight over her with a sigh, the thickness of his arousal pressing against her core in a way that made her want to squirm. “You said a certain level of control was required for this position,” he said, dropping a kiss on her collarbone. “I warn you, I don’t have it.”
“Don’t worry about that tonight. I know my courses and the chance of conception is minimal.” She skimmed her fingernails down his lean back, and he shuddered.
“Are you sure?”
She nodded, tightening her thighs around his hips. She was ready, aching for him. “Forget control. Just take me. Please,” she added, in case he needed further convincing.
He made a low sound of pleasure. “I like the sound of that.” His hand trailed down her neck, coming to rest possessively at the base of her throat. “Beg for me, Lucretia.”
Her pride flared momentarily in resistance, but he nudged his hips against hers, causing his cock to give a tempting push against her entrance. Simple need burned away the vestiges of her pride. “I want you inside me, Felix. Please, I want to feel you lose yourself, I want you to—”
“Fuck,” he rasped. “Are you ready, Lucretia? Ready now?” Even as he spoke, he was adjusting his position, a hand wrapped around his cock to guide it into her.
She nodded with voracious eagerness, unable to form more words. There was a moment of fumbling as they found the right angle, and then she gripped his shoulders hard as he slid into her. “Oh!”
He froze. “Did I go too fast?” His voice was strangled, breathless in her ear.
She shook her head, relaxing her grasp on his shoulders to give his back a reassuring stroke. “Let me take all of you.”
He rooted himself deep inside her with another muttered curse. Then he drew back and thrust, the powerful movement driving her halfway across the bed.
She giggled and held on, arms and legs wrapping tight around him, as he took his pleasure. This was what she wanted—to make him lose control, abandon all traces of composure, to think only of his satisfaction. With moans and gasps, she encouraged him to take her harder, faster, to use her exactly as he wished.
“Yes,” she breathed. “Just like that.”
His climax seemed to burst as quick and sudden as a summer rainstorm, passing through him in wracking waves. He moaned her name, one hand clenching on her hip so tightly she wouldn’t be surprised if it bruised.
When it left him, he rolled off her and collapsed onto his back. He seemed incapable of speech, so she laid her head on his shoulder and rubbed her hand over his chest, feeling the rapid thumping of his heart.
Gradually, it slowed. She expected him to fall asleep after all he’d endured, but his hand came up to stroke her hair. “Lucretia,” he murmured. “For the third time, will youfinally, pleasemarry me?”
She propped herself on her elbow to survey him. After their confessions of love earlier, she’d anticipated this question. And she knew exactly what her answer would be.
“No.” She couldn’t stop a smile from spreading over her face. “I will not marry you, Felix.”
“What?”He shot into a sitting position, heat flaring in his eyes. “Now is not the time for jokes.”
She schooled her face into a more serious expression. “I’m not joking.” She sat up and reached for his hand, twining his fingers with hers. “I love you, Felix. But I don’t need a husband. And Marcus has made it very clear he doesn’t want a stepfather, despite his affection for you.”
He opened his mouth, but she held up a hand and continued speaking. “A husband holds no benefit to me, but a business partner might. I think we are better suited as colleagues and lovers, rather than husband and wife. At least for now. You know we’d be stronger if we combine our efforts, instead of working against each other.”
