Page 45 of Prescription for Sin

“Of course, of course,” Snowden said smoothly. “We’re confident you’ll find our offer most appealing.”

Everett held Emma against his chest, acutely aware of her soft curves pressed to him in the darkness. Even her anger as she twisted free was intoxicating.

“You stole my research,” she hissed, keeping her voice low, “for your father who likely sits on the water company’s board!”

“I know as little as you do about my father’s involvement,” he protested, though his mind raced with implications. “I had no idea he was connected to London Water until now.”

Emma searched his face. The hurt and distrust beneath her anger made his chest ache.

“What if your father knew about the defects, knew they were causing deaths, but ignored the truth?”

“He would never. He taught me to heal, to choose lives over all else. He likely has not drawn the correlation between his pipes and cholera. We have yet to confirm if the construction timeframe overlaps with the epidemic.”

Emma repeatedly poked his chest with a finger. “You must return my data so I can continue the research. Lives depend on it!”

“It’ll be more expeditious for me to legally obtain the necessary information. You do not need to incur more wrath from the Royal College.”

He approached her, transfixed by the passion in her face. God help him, but he wanted her.

“It’ll take you too long to get caught up,” she said, stepping back. “Are you even listening to me?”

“No,” he admitted, stepping closer.

She backed away until she hit the wall. “What are you about?” Her voice emerged timid.

“Lesson five.” He braced his hands against the wall on either side of her head. “Taste.”

“Now? But your father—”

“Can wait.” And then he was kissing her, drowning in the softness of her mouth, the small sound of protest that transformed into a moan as she melted against him. Her hands fisted in his coat, pulling him closer as she kissed him back with equal fervour.

All thoughts of water companies and conspiracies vanished as Emma’s lips parted beneath his, allowing him to deepen the kiss. She tasted of wine and passion and everything he’d been dreaming of since leaving her house. His body pressed her more firmly against the wall as her fingers threaded through his hair, keeping him close.

“Everett…” she breathed against his lips.

“Hm?”

“I’m still angry with you.”

With an incoherent sound, Everett slanted his mouth over hers, deepening the kiss while his hands gathered her skirts around the waist.

“I still hate you,” she breathed as his mouth found her throat, his tongue tracing the graceful line down to her collarbone while his hands held the layers of fabric back.

“Good. It’ll make your pussy that much sweeter.” He dropped to his knees.

“What… What are you doing?”

“Tasting your cunt,” he said hoarsely. Then he buried his face in her cunny.

Everett released a long groan as he disappeared under her petticoats. He drank the pool of her nectar, so sweet, salty and musky, before using his tongue to trace the delicate lines of her folds. Emma gasped, then bucked her heat against his mouth. Chuckling with delight, he did her bidding, tasting every inch of her folds, then licking lightly at her entrance. Emma let out a muffled yelp, then whimpered, almost pleading for him to ease her ache.

He lifted one of her legs over his shoulder, deepening his contact with her pussy, licking and sucking everywhere but her bud. He let her suffer a little longer while he unfastened his falls and gripped his aching cock. Then he showed her what he could do with his skilled muscle. He sucked on her pearl first, then gently scraped his teeth against it, causing her to gasp. Then he massaged it with a slow rhythm of his tongue, one hand gripping her thigh, the other stroking his steely cock, pulsing and jerking as more and more blood pooled in his shaft.

He knew she was close when Emma began to press her sex against his tongue, matching his rhythm, moving in a way that felt good for her. He loved this about her. Expressive, direct, even in satisfying her hunger…and how naturally she was in tune with him. Her hunger was an aphrodisiac he could not resist. He could have buried his tongue inside her for eternity, but she rose higher and higher, thrusting her pussy against his mouth as she crested over the euphoria. Her pleasure seemed to envelop her body, and she shook as her nerves shuddered in the aftermath. Her muffled screams were irresistible to him, but he didn’t dare spill his seed on the rug.

After she released his head and relaxed against the wall with a satisfied moan, Everett emerged from her skirts and stood to his full height. Without a word, he kissed her, letting her taste herself on his tongue. She drained her flavour from his mouth, sucking and licking, eagerly tasting what he had to offer.

“Fuck…” The word slipped from his lips, unable to find a more suitable expression of his awe. “You’re so perfect, and your cunny tastes divine,” he rasped.