Page 51 of The Good Girl's Guide to Rakes
At last.He let her explore as she learned the feel of him. She’d read a good deal about kisses, yet all those words fled as she sank into exquisite reality. Hewassoft, but firm, and she could have spent decades simply touching her mouth to his. Desire had greater demands.
She stroked the seam of his mouth with her tongue. Growling, he opened to take her in. Their tongues met in hot, slick strokes that reverberated through her whole body. He tasted of wine and tobacco and sugar, and kissed her as though he’d been fashioned for this purpose alone. She was the center of his world, his one ambition, and he let her know it through his lips.
She clung tightly to him, holding nothing back as she fell into limitless pleasure.
Yet he kept his hands on the wall.
Needing more, she surged into him, pressing her body to his. He was tight and solid and deliciously male, such a welcome contrast to her own softness. Her hips met his, and she mewled to feel the hard length of his erection snug against her belly.
His kisses turned deeper, more demanding, and she met that demand with her own need. Reckless joy seized her as she tested the limits of freedom, made all the better becausehewas the man experiencing it with her. The man she’d wanted ever since she had first seen him, years ago. Now she knew so much more than that starry-eyed girl. She knew herself and she knewhim.
“Touch me,” she gasped against his lips. “I want you to . . . want you . . .”
With a fierce snarl, he tore his hands from the wall. At once, one of his palms curved around the front of her throat in a gentle but firm clasp.
He cupped his other hand over her breast. “Ah, love,” he said in a deep rumble.
Even with the fabric of her bodice between them, he was hot against her flesh. As he stroked her, sensation gathered and traveled in hot currents between her legs. She could not keep still beneath him, shifting and arching. When he dipped his deft fingers beneath the neckline of her gown to find her nipple, she made a keening sound, the noise sharpening with pleasure when he pinched the tip of her breast. White gleaming ecstasy burst through her.
“Kieran,” she gasped.
He was taut against her, his body deliciously unyielding. “Can I give you more, love?”
“Please.”
As he’d promised, he scooped up her skirts with his other hand, until his hot palm found her leg. He caressed her through the film of her stocking, then went higher. He toyed with the ribbon of her garter. And then his hand went higher still, until he met the bare flesh of her thigh.
Until now, the only hand she’d ever felt on her thigh had been her own. But to have someone else touch her—to haveKierantouch this sensitive part of her—made the pleasure all the greater. He stroked over her flesh, surprisingly calloused fingertips lightly abrading against her flesh.
He pressed his face into the curve of her neck. “I want to touch you, love. Your cunt. May I?”
She opened her legs wider, willing to give him anything.
“Give me the words,” he urged.
“I want you to,” she said on a gasp. “Touch my... my cunt.”
He snarled his approval.
Just as he had described, he slid his hand up until he reached her sex. She jolted with the sensation, but didn’t push him away. If anything, she pushed herself farther into his touch.
“Ah, fuck,” he rasped. “You’re so beautiful.” His fingers dipped between her folds, and she adored the slight roughness against her flesh. He traced the tender skin, his touch confident, deft and attentive. When he gently circled her bud, she cried out, lost to ecstasy. Pleasure built higher and higher, suffusing everything, as he stroked her.
A climax tore through her. She bowed up from the wall with the force of it, clinging to him as shudders racked her. He held her securely, yet did not relent in his caresses, not until she came once more, and then again.
At last, he slowed his hand, and then soothingly covered her mons with his palm. She held tightly to him, her body limp in the aftermath. He was solid as he held her up, and murmured wordless praise against the crown of her head.
“I want to return the favor,” she whispered against his chest, and slid her hand down the length of his taut abdomen.
He let out a rueful chuckle as he stopped her hand. “Much as I desire that, love, I’m going to have to decline.”
“Oh,” she said, defeated. She wasn’t experienced like his other lovers, so of course there was nothing tempting about her offer.
“Because,” he explained, looking her in the eye, “if you touch my cock, that’s all I’ll ever want, and I have to make it through the rest of my life without it.”
A pleased smile touched her lips, but her smile fell away when, gaze heavy-lidded, he dipped his fingers into his mouth, licking where she’d coated him with her arousal.
He wrapped his fingers around her wrist and kissed her where her pulse hammered beneath the delicate flesh. He did the same to her other hand. “Thank you.”
