Page 42 of A Scandal for the Beastly Earl

“And you always say the most wicked things,” she murmured, though her voice betrayed no real protest.

He grinned against her skin. “Because they’re true.”

Lucien kissed her again, more deeply this time, before his hand moved to cup one breast, fingers splaying wide. The gasp that escaped her lips made him chuckle low in his throat.

“Lucien...”

“Too much?”

“No… just unexpected.” She tilted her head back with a shaky laugh. “You make me feel like I might dissolve in your hands.”

“Then let me catch you,” he said, his thumbs brushing over her hardened peaks through the thin barrier of fabric. Her knees weakened, a surprised squeak escaping her when he rolled them gently between his fingers.

Heat flooded her, pooling low in her abdomen. She couldn’t look away from his face; eyes dark with focus, mouth slightly parted as if tasting her reactions. He kissed her again, slower this time, savoring her like a man starved.

Then his free hand slid lower, brushing past her navel, fingers slipping into the damp warmth between her thighs.

Arabella gasped. “Lucien...”

“Shh,” he whispered against her mouth. “Let me take care of you.”

His fingers found her folds, parting them with careful precision. When he found her pearl, he paused.

“Here?”

She gave a helpless nod, eyes fluttering shut. He pinched lightly, rolled, then soothed the spot with a gentle rub that made her entire body arch toward him.

“Oh, Lucien...”

Lucien grinned. “That good?”

She couldn’t answer, she could only moan as the sensation shot through her in shuddering waves. He pressed another kiss to her lips before trailing lower, planting kisses along her ribs, her stomach, until he reached the underside of her breast. There, he paused.

“Beautiful,” he breathed.

And then his mouth was on her, warm and teasing, kissing gently at her peak. Arabella cried out, hands flying to his shoulders. She dug her fingers into the hard muscle of his back and held on, anchoring herself.

“I need... I don’t even know what I need,” she said, dazed and breathless.

“You need me,” he murmured against her skin. “And I need you.”

Once Lucien had kissed and tasted his fill, driving her to the edge with every brush of his mouth and every deliberate press of his fingers, he finally stilled, breathing heavily against her skin. Arabella lay trembling beneath him, her chest rising and falling in uneven gasps, her body loose and pliant in his hands.

He lifted his head slowly, his mouth slick from the worship he had paid her, his eyes dark and searching.

“You’re ready,” he said, voice husky.

She nodded, her lips parted, dazed. “Yes… I need you.”

Lucien moved to settle between her thighs, and as he did, he caught her gaze and held it. His hand reached down, guiding himself to her entrance. He brushed against her first, letting her feel the full intent of what was coming.

Arabella exhaled shakily. “Don’t look away,” she whispered.

“Never,” he promised.

And he didn’t. Even as he slowly pressed the tip of himself against her, nudging forward with agonizing gentleness, his eyes remained locked with hers. The slick heat of her made it easier and her readiness was a silent invitation he honored with care.

She gasped as he pushed in inch by inch, her fingers clenching the sheets beneath her. His expression changed, tightening slightly with restraint.