When he flexed his hips, she knew exactly what kind ofhardhe meant, and her gasp turned to a moan. “And I am work?”
“Love, ye’re myfavoritework. My grandest adventure.”
Phineas’s lips captured hers, hungry and passionate. His tongue swept into her mouth, claiming her, as his fingers worked on her buttons. She could feel the urgency in his touch, the desperation matching her own. When he pushed the fabric off her shoulders, she shivered, not from cold, but from the intensity of his gaze on her bare skin.
He laid her back against the settee, the soft cushions supporting her as he loomed over her. His breath was ragged, his eyes dark with desire. “Ye’re so beautiful, love,” he murmured, his voice a low growl that sent shivers down her spine.
But Olive didn’t want slow and reverent. She wanted him, all of him, right now. Her hands reached for his shirt, tugging it up, her fingers tracing the hard planes of his stomach and chest. He groaned at her touch, his muscles flexing beneath her palms.
“Olive,” he rasped, his voice a warning and a plea all at once.
“I need you, Phineas,” she whispered, her voice breathy. Her hands trailed down to his trousers, stroking the hard length of him through the fabric. He was already straining against the material, a wet mark already spreading. She fumbled with his buttons, desperate to feel his hard length against her palm.
Since the moment he’d confessed he’d spilled in his trousers during their first encounter, she’d been fascinated by the feelof that moisture against the fabric. It made her feel…powerful. Desirable.
Just as Phineas himself did.
He knelt beside her on the settee, his large frame bending over her as if she were a goddess to be worshiped. His mouth found her breast, his lips wrapping around her nipple, sucking and teasing it into a hard peak. His teeth grazed the sensitive flesh, and she arched off the cushions, a gasp escaping her lips.
His other hand dipped between her legs, his fingers sliding through her wet folds. She was already soaked for him, her body aching with need. When his finger circled her clitoris, she whimpered, her hips bucking against his touch.
“So wet for me,” he praised, his voice rough. His finger slid inside her, and she moaned, her inner muscles clenching around him. He added another finger, stretching her, preparing her for him.
Olive’s hand found his cock, wrapping around the velvety length. He was hot and hard in her palm, the tip slick with precum. She stroked him, her thumb spreading the wetness, and he groaned against her breast.
“That’s it, love,” he murmured, his teeth scraping against her nipple. “Touch me just like that.”
His fingers curled inside her, his thumb finding her clitoris, circling it in time with her strokes on his cock. What they were doing—here, in broad daylight, in his study—made her feel so erotic and deliciously naughty. The pleasure built quickly, her body already on the brink of release.
“Phineas,” she gasped, her head falling back against the cushions. “I am close—so close.”
He lifted his head from her breast, his eyes locking onto hers. “ Come for me, Olive,” he commanded, his voice low and intense. “Let me see ye come undone.”
And she did.
With a cry, her climax crashed over her, her inner muscles pulsing around his fingers. Her hand tightened around his cock, her strokes becoming erratic as waves of pleasure washed through her.
But it wasn’t enough. Even as the last tremors of her orgasm faded, she knew she needed more. She needed him.
Phineas seemed to understand. He withdrew his fingers, bringing them to his mouth and sucking her wetness off them. The sight was so erotic, so primal, that it sent a fresh wave of arousal through her.
Or perhaps that was merely because of the sight of him, stripping off his shirt and pulling down his trousers.
He shifted, moving between her thighs, his large body covering hers. She felt small and delicate beneath him, but also powerful, seductive. She wrapped her legs around his thighs, urging him closer.
His cock pressed against her entrance, and she whimpered, her hips lifting to meet him. He slid into her slowly, inch by delicious inch, his eyes locked onto hers the entire time. She could see the effort it took for him to hold back, to go slow.
“Ye feel so good, wife,” he groaned, his jaw clenched. “Perfection together.”
When he was fully seated inside her, he paused, giving her a moment to adjust to his size. But she didn’t need a moment. She needed him to move.
She rolled her hips, urging him on, and he began to thrust. Slowly at first, then building in speed and intensity. She met each of his strokes, their bodies moving in a rhythm that was theirs alone. The feeling of him sliding in and out of her was exquisite, the friction hitting every sensitive nerve ending, the pleasure building with each thrust.
Olive’s hands roamed over his back, her fingers digging into the muscles that flexed with each movement. She could feel the power in his body, the controlled strength as he drove into her. His skin was slick with sweat, and the scent of him—spice and adventure andPhineas—filled her senses.
Phineas’s mouth found hers again, his tongue mimicking the movements of his hips. The kiss was deep and hungry, a claiming that matched the intensity of their lovemaking. She nipped on his tongue, tasting him, and he groaned into her mouth.
His hips rolled, changing the angle slightly, and she gasped as the tip of his cock hit that spot deep inside her that made stars burst behind her eyes. “There,” she panted against his lips. “Right there.”
