Page 32 of Mr. Notorious and the Nefarious November

Her gaze found his right as the climax poured through her. She felt as though she’d been an empty vessel who was being filled with pleasure. She groaned as the sensations flowed through her body, out into her limbs, all the way to the tips of her toes. She had clenched tightly around his fingers, squeezing every inch of sensation out of the orgasm, but it still wasn’t enough. She wanted him inside her.

Finally, she lay sated and spent. His hand was warm on her belly as he lay on his side and studied her face.

“That was exquisite,” she finally managed. “Again.”

“I have much more in mind.”

“Good.” She closed her eyes and saw the image of him above her, the love in his eyes as he looked down at her, pleasured her. Somehow, despite what she had put him through, he still loved her. And somehow it didn’t matter so much anymore that he had the reputation of a rake or had once been a rake. Her fears had never been about that. She’d been so afraid of loving another man who only wanted the challenge of winning her and would toss her aside once the chase was over.

But she’d been wrong, so very wrong, to see Munro that way. He’d proved, time and again, that he loved her. He’d pleasured her twice and asked nothing in return, seemingly content to enjoy her fulfillment.

He said he had more in mind, and so did she. She wanted to show him just how much he meant to her as well.

She sat, turned to him, and pushed him down. “What’s this?” he asked.

“My turn.”

Chapter Nine

The look in Beatrice’s eyes made Munro’s heart gallop and his cock pulse painfully. He wanted her so badly, and the fact that she was here with him now was like a dream. Every time he blinked, he was half-afraid that she’d disappear.

The more he touched her, though, the more real she became. He could have never imagined the silkiness of her skin or the lushness of her body under his hands. Nor could he have guessed at the erotic sounds she made as she climaxed or the way her ripe mouth opened to form an O at the moment of ecstasy.

She’d come hard and long. She’d clenched his fingers in a painful vise inside her, and he wanted to feel it all again. More than anything, he wanted to be inside her. She couldn’t have any idea the willpower it took to hold himself back from ravishing her when she was naked and writhing beneath him. He had never wanted any woman this much. He had never exercised this much restraint, and he knew he would wait as long as she needed before making her his—in body or name.

He'd been such a fool to think he could ever leave her and sail away back for Italy. He was her slave, more than ever now that she held his wrists pinned on the bed, her breasts just abovehis mouth. He extended his tongue and licked one of her dusky nipples, making it harden. She inhaled sharply. “I told you, it’s my turn.”

“What do you have in mind?”

“Torturing you.” She kissed him, sliding over him as she did so. Why the devil was he wearing so many clothes? “Like you tortured me.” Her mouth brushed over his cheeks, his jaw, slid behind his ear. Her teeth caught his earlobe, and he clenched his hands together. She still held him on the bed, but he could have easily lifted her off him and reversed their positions.

Her hands slid over his chest, down the lawn of his shirt, and stopped at the waistband of his trousers. His cock was practically twitching. He hoped to God he didn’t embarrass himself if she touched him there.

Then her hand slid lower, moving with agonizing slowness, until she brushed over him and took hold, sliding down the length of him through the material of his trousers. “I feel how much you want me,” she murmured in his ear, making him shiver.

“More than anything,” he said.

She squeezed him, and he groaned. Slowly, she slid off him. “Take off your clothes, and we’ll see what happens next.”

He was off the bed in an instant, yanking at his coat. He got it off, tossed it on the floor and started on his waistcoat. Then he made the mistake of glancing at Beatrice. She’d arranged herself on the bed, lying on one side with her head propped on a bent hand. The curve of her hip and the dip of her waist were endlessly alluring. His hands ached to cup her full breasts, and he wanted to nestle in that triangle of dark curls between her thighs.

He threw the waistcoat on the floor then tore at his neckcloth, ripped several buttons off his shirt then yanked it over his head.

She made a sound of approval when she saw his chest, and her desire for him only increased his need for her. He sat on the bed to remove his shoes, and she rose on her knees behind him, kissing the back of his neck and running her hands over his shoulders. “You’re the one who is beautiful,” she murmured, pressing her soft breasts against his back. She nipped at his shoulder, and his hands shook as he pulled off his stockings. Finally, he stood and unfastened his breeches. His back was still to her, and he let them fall, giving her a view of his backside. He’d heard that was one of his best features.

Her reaction didn’t disappoint. She let out an appreciative sigh, and he felt her fingers skim over his buttocks. “Now turn around,” she said.

He stepped out of his trousers then hesitated. He was actually worried she might be disappointed. Damn the Brazen Belle and herRake Review. He took a breath and turned, and her gaze slid from his eyes to his chest to his cock, standing at attention.

“Thank God,” she said.

He arched a brow. “That’s a reaction I haven’t had before. I take it you weren’t looking forward to trying intercourse with a pierced cock.”

“I’m sure it’s enjoyable. I just wouldn’t know what to do with it.” She reached for his hips and pulled him closer. “And do you know what I’m thinking now?”

He hoped whatever it was involved her full lips around his decidedly jewelry-free manhood. “What’s that?” he said, voice raspy at his own fantasies.

“If the Brazen Belle was wrong about that fact, what else was she wrong about?”

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