Hand tightening on her thigh, he cast his gaze over her once more. “You have thebestunderthings.”
She rubbed against his lap, delighting in his low groan. “Yes. I can feel your appreciation.”
“Well now.” With a lusty grin, he slid his hands around her waist. “Shall we see if we can do something about it?”
She gave her answer by taking his mouth with hers.
Passion exploded between them, as if it had been weeks, months, years since last they’d touched rather than just last night. Fingers sliding into his hair, she held him still as she devoured his mouth.
Eagerly, he participated in his destruction, his hands covering her breasts, thumbs circling her nipples, and teasing the taut buds. She gasped into his mouth, the sensation assaulting her almost painful in its intensity. Twisting in his lap, she straddled him. Bowed over him, her knees on either side of his hips, she kissed him and kissed him, her passion burning inside her, and the feel of him big and hard between her legs made her aware of her own emptiness.
Tearing his mouth from hers, he jerked the bodice down her arms. Bound, she could only arch her body, and he took advantage, licking her breast, drawing her nipple into the hot, wet cavern of his mouth. Throwing back her head, she clenched her hands. She desperately wanted to touch him, but she couldn’t with arms trapped as they were, his hands hot shackles on her wrists. Instead, she pushed herself into his mouth, and he nipped and licked and sucked.
“Rupert.” God, her voice sounded so hoarse. Wetting her lips, she tried again. “Rupert. Let me go.”
He ignored her, switching attention to her other breast.
“Rupert—Oh, God! Rupert,please. Please let me go. Please, please,please.”
Finally, he relented, and relief overwhelmed her. Stripping herself of her bodice, she ripped at his waistcoat, his shirt, needing to feel his skin. The stubborn cloth wouldn’t cooperate, and she growled her displeasure as he licked her neck, her jaw. Abandoning the fruitless task, she reached for the buttons of his trousers. The fabric parted easily, and she reached inside, surrounding his cock with her hand.
With a sharp intake of breath, he pulled away from her neck. Eyes closed, he shuddered as she gripped him. “Harder, Alice. Grip me hard. Like that. Oh, God, yes, like that.”
His words were flavoured with that thick accent, the one that spoke of his true origins, but she had no care for such things now, not when he was hot and hard in her hand.
Reaching between them, he stroked her slick folds, finding where her pleasure cantered. She bit his shoulder, and bit harder as he gently circled, his fingers gathering in the wetness there. Thumb still playing with her, his fingers traced her opening and slid inside. His shoulder muffled her moan. It felt so good, so damn good, and she wanted him to do it forever.
But the pleasure he gave her was nothing compared to the pleasure of him inside her.
Retrieving the packet she’d attached to her stocking, she opened it and smoothed the sheath over him. He groaned, and took his fingers from her to hold himself steady as she raised herself over him.
Then, slowly, she sank down.
They both moaned as the head of his cock pushed into her. Rising, she sank down again, and she closed her eyes as he slid deeper. Fully joined, she savoured the feel of him, thick and hard. His hands skimming her thighs to her hips, he urged her to rise, and so she did, biting her lip as he left her. Over and again, slow and steady, she rose and fell, her eyes opening to lock with his.
His hands slid to her breasts, covering her flesh, moulding and shaping. Still she rose and fell, loving the feel of him inside her, and he muttered a lyrical flow of syllables, something about heat and wet and the feel of her. His fingers found her nipples to tug at the elongated peaks. Pleasure built inside her, and she wanted to hurry, wanted to slam herself up on him, but to torture him she kept her slow, steady pace, rising and falling, rising and falling.
But he wouldn’t have it. His hand slid to where they were joined, and he found her. Lightning forked through her, and she screamed, unable to deny she wanted it hard and fast, too.
Wrapping her arms about him, she buried her face in his neck as she lifted and slammed herself down upon him, her nipples strafing against his clothes, every part of her burning as he moved inside her so strongly. The pleasure built and grew, until it was too much to bear. Gripping him tight, she cried out as her release crashed over her, breaking in wave after wave.
Breath harsh, forehead on his shoulder, she recovered. Slowly, she realised he was still strong and hard within her. Raising her head, she gasped at the dark, fierce expression on his face. His fingers bit into her hips, and he looked to be battling his reaction, forcing himself motionless.
Gently, she brought her hand to his cheek.
He exploded into motion. Gathering her in his arms, he shoved her onto her desk. Glass shattered as it fell to the floor, but she paid it no mind as he held her thighs wide, thrusting hard and deep. Gasping, she pulled him so he bent over her, his arm thudding beside her to brace himself. He grunted, his hips driving between hers, forceful and out of control. Amazingly, the pressure built again, and she hitched her legs around his ribs, pushing herself into his possession as again, the pleasure burst through her. At the height of it, she felt him stiffen and his body shook as he came.
Twitching with aftershocks, he lay heavy upon her, and she welcomed his weight. More than that, she relished it. Letting her legs loosen, she caressed the back of his calves with her feet, her arms wrapped about him.
Finally, he lifted his head. Bracing himself on his arms, he put his forehead against hers. “Third, there wouldn’t be a bloody saloon full of patrons just below us as we do this.”
They had just made love, he was still inside her, and yet he made her laugh so hard she hurt.
She was never letting him go.
