Page 95 of Under Arthur’s Protection

He moved to the other breast, giving it the same slow, thorough attention. “You’re sure about this? We can stop if you want to stop or if you want to sleep.”

I’d been exhausted a half-hour ago, but now? “I don’t think I’m capable of sleep at this moment.”

Arthur gazed up at me through heavy lids. “Need an orgasm?”

“Yes, please.”

He slid his hands to my hips, thumbs tracing circles on my hip bones while his mouth returned to my chest. Slow. Unhurried. As though we had all the time in the world. “I’m happy to oblige.”

I undid the button of his torn pants, and he lifted enough for me to push them down. He groaned as I closed my grip around his thick, hard cock. I stroked him from base to tip, and his hips rose with every pass. A gasp escaped him when I spread the bead of precum over the end.

He caught my wrist and stopped me. “Oh, sweetheart, that’s not how tonight’s going to go.”

“No?”

“You first.” He unfastened my jeans, his lips following his hands. “I need to see your face when you come. I need to see how beautiful you are before I get off.”

Oh god.

Between us, we got the rest of our clothes off, and he pulled me down onto the bed. He rolled me underneath him, careful to keep his weight off me and protect the worst of his injuries. He traced a path down my body, over my breast, across my stomach, between my thighs. He nudged my legs wider with his knee.

“Fuck, Gwen, you’re soaked.” He dragged one finger through my folds, and my breath hitched. “This all for me?”

“Yes.” My hips chased his hand. “All for you.”

He played with my clit until I rocked into his touch, already embarrassingly close. He was relentless, and when he slid a finger inside me, I dug my fingers into his shoulder.

“That’s it.” His voice was raw against my ear. “Let me feel you. Show me how bad you want me.”

He curled his finger against a spot that caused my hips to lift off the bed, and he held the pressure while his thumb circled my clit. I caught him by the nape and drew him down, kissing him as I came closer to falling apart. His tongue was magic as it tangled with mine.

What will that tongue do between your legs?

“Arthur,” I moaned. “I need you.”

“Soon, I promise.” He added a second finger, and my whole body tightened around him. “But you’re going to come on my hand first, sweetheart.”

Sweetheart. I liked that. I liked the promise under it more.

He worked me higher as his mouth moved to my neck. When I gasped, he kept doing whatever he’d done to get that out of me. When I moaned, he slowed down, drawing it out, keeping me at the edge without letting me fall. He scissored his fingers, pumped them slow and deep, his thumb staying on my clit. “That’s my girl.”

He touched me like he cooked. Layers. Patience. Attention. Every response noted. Every need satisfied.

“Arthur, please.”

“What do you want?”

“You. Inside me.” I needed to explode. “Now.”

“Not yet.” He pressed a third finger to my entrance, easing it in beside the others. “Give me this one first. Come for me, Gwen. Right now.”

He curled all of them, pressed his thumb down hard, and the coil that had been winding since Ferraro’s finally snapped.

The orgasm crashed through me, and I clenched around his fingers, my nails raking his shoulder. “Arthur! Oh my god, Arthur!”

He kept moving, working me through every last shudder, until I was limp and gasping. He brought his fingers to his mouth and licked them clean, his eyes on mine the whole time. “I’ve been wondering what you tasted like since we met.”

Holy shit. “You are going to kill me.”