Page 44 of The Devil and the Heiress
“I don’t care—”
He reached up and covered her mouth with his fingers before she could entice him further. “Violet.” But he only became caught up in the sight of his thumb pressed against the pink of her lips. He traced over her bottom lip, savoring the silken feel. “You would hate me if you knew all I’ve done.”
She smiled and he watched, helpless to resist as she bit the pad of his thumb then soothed it with her tongue. When she sucked the tip into her mouth, he groaned again, imagining the sucking of her tight body around his cock. His head swimming in arousal, he could no longer resist. He took his hand from her, only to fall over her, his mouth devouring hers as he held his weight above her with his palms on either side.
She made a sound of triumph deep in her throat as she kissed him back. Her kiss was wet, eager, and wildly inexperienced but intoxicating nonetheless, perhaps because of all of those things, coupled with the fact that this was Violet and he had spent endless hours wanting her, longing to touch her, smelling her scent, listening to her voice. He knew each intonation; the ones that told when she was happy or annoyed or teasing. Somehow in their time together he had learned her like he had never bothered to learn anyone else.
The need for breath made him release her lips, only to drag his mouth down the column of her throat, tasting the salt of her skin. She moaned when he bit her earlobe. Thesound fueled something visceral deep within him. Something that only understood need and want and possession. He dragged the sleeve of her nightdress down, revealing her breast to his greedy eyes. Her nipple was drawn tight and pink.
“Please,” she whispered.
He vaguely wondered if she knew what she asked him for, but just as quickly, the thought was overtaken by instinct. He tongued the distended tip before pulling it into his mouth and sucking until her back arched off the bed. As he worked, he shifted onto his side so that he would not hurt her with his weight, giving his hand the freedom to pull her nightdress up. Her legs were toned and firm, but softened a bit when he reached her thighs. She did not hesitate to part them for him.
“Christ,” he whispered when his fingertips brushed the soft hair guarding her sex, dipping between her lips to find her wet and hot. “Violet.”
He rose up only to have her grasp his shoulders as if she thought he was leaving. “Shh, I’m not going anywhere.”
She settled, her palms moving to his front, roving over his chest and down to his stomach. He shifted away when she would have roamed lower. He wouldn’t last if she touched him, and he had determined that this would be about her. He would give her pleasure while taking none for himself. It would be his penance for daring to touch her, a right he did not have because he had tried to steal her for himself.
Dipping his fingertip in her honeyed heat, he drew it up to her clitoris, using her own lubricant to glide the pad of his finger around the swollen flesh in a teasing circle. She gasped, her eyes closed tight as she arched into his touch. God she was beautiful. Her cheeks were flushed, and her lips parted on breathless sighs as he touched her. He massaged his finger over the sensitive nub, savoring her cry as he found the pressure she liked best. Her fists clenched in the bedding, as she gave herself over to him.
Unable to wait any longer, he moved the finger downward to press inside her. She was so tight and white-hot that he stifled a groan, his erection demanding that he take her. Slowly thrusting in a move that urged her body to give way to him, he widened her until he could slip a second finger inside. It was as much as she could comfortably take, so he gently moved them in and out, curling them upward, fucking her with a tenderness he hadn’t known he was capable of, afraid that anything harder would rob her of her innocence.
Swallowing thickly, he watched as her head thrashed back and forth, eyes still closed tight against the pleasure. Placing a kiss to her breast, he scraped his teeth over her nipple, before moving down her body. If this was his one chance to touch her, he would do it properly. He would leave her knowing her taste. The nightdress had worked its way up around her hips. He used his free hand to help it further along, baring her to his gaze. She was exquisite, pink and swollen, her lips parting around his fingers. A wave of raw tenderness rose up inside him.
“You’re beautiful,” he said, his voice thick and unrecognizable. He didn’t realize he had spoken aloud until she gasped and stiffened. Her eyes were wide in shock that he was gazing upon her, but her pupils were so dilated with passion that her irises appeared black. Grinning at her, he held her gaze as he lowered his head. Despite his reputation, it seemed she hadn’t fathomed such wickedness. Dear God, the things he could show her if given the chance. His thumb ceased its easy rhythm around her clitoris to be replaced with his tongue. He groaned at her sea salt taste, lapping at her to get more of it as he continued to fuck her with his fingers. She threw her head back, her cry reaching his ears as her pussy clenched around his fingers, rippling and tightening with her orgasm. He groaned again as he drank of her pleasure, grinding his cock against the mattress to help ease the ache.
This one night would not be enough. A lifetime of nights wouldn’t be enough of her. He eased his fingers from her and lapped at her until she fell against the mattress, languid and sated. His own need, however, coursed through his body, urging him to take her and fill her with his seed. Tearing himself away, he sat on the edge of the bed, fisting his hands at his sides as he tried to keep himself from reaching for her.
“Christian.” She fumbled for him, her hand grasping for his thigh but touching his erection instead. They both gasped.
Chapter 17
The plot had worked so well that Lord Lucifer should have felt triumph, for Miss Hamilton was his; but for all the joy, the bitter taste of his own betrayal lingered.
V. Lennox,An American and the London Season
Violet stared at the length of him barely hidden beneath the white linen of his drawers. The actual flesh of him was obscured but clearly defined in outline. He was both larger and harder than she had imagined possible for that part of him. Testing her newfound knowledge, she squeezed him gently. A groan sounded from deep in his chest.
“You do not play fair.” His eyes were hooded and dark with animal intensity. She shivered at the hot weight of them.
“I don’t mean to play a game. I simply want to give you pleasure as you gave to me.”
“Violet.” The way he said her name, breathless and with a husk that promised wickedness, sent a frisson of longing pulsing through her. Her intimate flesh began to ache again. “You know this is not right.”
“Why is it wrong?” For the life of her she couldn’t remember why it was supposed to be. “Would it be right had I stayed and wed Lord Ware? Would it be right to be sharing this night with him?”
He growled. Growled! The rough sound vibrated through her in a way that was as pleasurable as his touch. “Never say his name to me.”
Moving up fully onto her knees, she closed the distance between them until she was at his side, so close his body heat warmed her. The movement pulled at the nightgown, which already revealed one breast, to reveal her other. His gaze caught on the newly exposed peak. She knew that she should feel embarrassed. Once, Teddy had become over amorous and pulled at the lacing of a medieval gown she had worn to a costume ball, nearly revealing her. She had almost died of embarrassment and hadn’t met his gaze for the rest of the evening. But things were different with Christian. She felt a little shy, but never uncomfortable or ashamed.
“You didn’t answer the question.” Empowered by his desire, she released him only to run her thumb over his bottom lip, which still glistened from how he had licked at her. She had never known such a thing was possible.
He hissed out a breath, baring his teeth before licking at her thumb. Desire slammed into her full force as he suckled her, the hot heat of his mouth closing around her. How was it possible to want this so much when he had only recently left her sated?
“It would always be wrong for him to have you. For anyone to have you.”
She cupped his cheek, loving the scrape of stubble against her palm, but not as much as she had adored it rasping over her body as he had kissed her. “I see. Then I am to remain untouched and unhad for the rest of my life?”
