Page 97 of Touched By a Traitor
She faced him again, close enough now that she could see the pulse hammering in his throat. “Then you had better learn restraint, my lord.”
“Do you wish an untimely death upon me?”
“Don’t you think I deserve this after what you’ve put me through?” She let the words hang between them as she slowlylowered the strap of her shift, baring one breast to his hungry gaze.
“Yes…” he breathed, his voice rough with want as his eyes fixed on the rosy peak that crowned her pale flesh.
“Then follow my rules, or you shall not touch me at all.” Her voice was velvet wrapped around steel. “Do you understand?”
His gaze riveted on her nipple, his hand moved instinctively toward his straining cock.
“No.” The command cracked like a whip.
A tortured groan tore from his throat. “You’ll pay for this torment, wife. When you’re finished playing your games, I shall claim every inch of you.”
The threat sent heat spiraling through her core. Charlotte approached with feline grace, letting the shift pool at her feet like spilled moonlight.
“Are you losing control, my lord?” Her fingers found the buttons of his shirt, working them free with deliberate slowness until his sculpted chest was bared to her touch. The chiseled planes of muscle drew a soft moan from her lips as her impatience finally broke through. Her hands flew to his falls, freeing him with urgent efficiency.
His manhood sprang free, thick and proud, the sight of him making her mouth water with anticipation. Without breaking the spell of his desperate gaze, she straddled his thighs, one hand finding her aching center while the other cupped her breast.
“Christ…” The word was barely human, torn from somewhere deep in his chest.
She began to move against her own touch, her body responding to months of denied longing. When his hand jerked toward her, she caught his wrist. “Not yet,” she whispered, but as her pleasure built to a crescendo, she leaned forward, offering her breast to his waiting mouth.
He seized the gift hungrily, his tongue circling and teeth grazing until she cried out, her body arching as waves of sensation crashed over her. Every muscle in his frame was taut with restraint, his breath coming in harsh pants.
“Please,” he begged against her skin. “I’m dying for you, Charlotte.”
Instead of answering, she turned in his lap, her back to his chest, and wrapped her fingers around his rigid length. The contact made him buck beneath her, a strangled curse escaping his lips as she began to stroke him with maddening precision.
“Sweet Jesus,” he gasped.
Rising on her knees, she positioned herself above him, then took him into her mouth in one fluid motion. His shout of pleasure echoed through the room as his control finally shattered, his hands tangling in her hair as she drove them both toward the edge of reason.
He cried out her name as his release claimed him, his body shuddering with the force of his climax as she took everything he gave. When the last tremor subsided, Andrew’s hands found her waist, drawing her up his body until she straddled his hips, her slick heat pressed against his softening length.
“Magnificent,” he breathed, his voice rough with satisfaction and renewed hunger. “Come here.”
With a fierce growl of possession, Andrew captured her lips, his mouth claiming hers with desperate intensity. This kiss was different—deeper, more consuming—a declaration that went beyond mere desire. His hands tangled in her hair as they melted into each other, their bodies fitting together as if they’d been crafted for this very moment.
When he finally tore his mouth from hers, they were both breathless, her lips swollen and glistening from his ardent attention. The passion-glazed look in his eyes made something primal stir within her once more.
“I need to taste you,” he said, his voice a dark promise. He urged her to her feet, guiding her hands to the headboard. “Hold tight, love. Don’t let go.”
The first touch of his mouth against her sensitive center made her cry out, her fingers gripping the carved wood as sensation crashed over her. He was relentless in his worship, his tongue mapping every sensitive fold with devastating precision. Each stroke sent lightning through her—sometimes gentle as a whisper, sometimes demanding as his hunger grew.
His hands gripped her hips, holding her steady as she began to move against him, chasing the pleasure that built with each caress of his tongue. When he sealed his lips around her most sensitive spot and sucked gently, she nearly lost her grip on the headboard.
“Andrew,” she gasped, her head falling back as the tension coiled tighter within her.
He answered with a low moan that vibrated against her flesh, the sound pushing her closer to the edge. When his tongue delved deep inside her, she rode the sensation with abandon, her body moving in an ancient rhythm until ecstasy finally claimed her, leaving her trembling and breathless in his arms.
In one fluid motion, he swept her beneath him, her body yielding to his strength as he positioned her on her back. She felt boneless, pliant, completely at his mercy as he settled between her thighs.
“Andrew, I—”
“I have you,” he whispered against her lips, his voice thick with need and tenderness. “I am your husband, and I love you. Let me claim you properly this time.”
