Page 109 of The Wolf of Mayfair
She moaned and her channel tightened around his long, strong digits. While she sucked him, he rewarded her efforts by stroking Helia in time to the same rhythm she’d set with her mouth.
Soon, their grunts and moans filled the room.
Then, with his usual mastery, Anthony pulled Helia off him, flipped her onto her back, and towered over her as if she were some kind of pagan sacrifice beneath him.
“I’m going to give you what you want, Helia,” he said, harsh in his declaration. “I’m going bury myself ballocks deep inside you, so deep, you can’t tell where I end and you begin.”
She whimpered.
But he wasn’t done. Mercilessly, Anthony continued filling her ears with a carnal imagery that drove her wild.
“I’m going to pump myself inside your quim, over and over, until you’re mindless and begging to come.”
Anthony, further torturing her, wrapped his hand around his thick length and stroked himself as he’d taught Helia.
Helia moaned and rocked back and forth to bring herself some relief of the agonizing ache he’d wrought.
With his spare hand, Anthony reached down and pressed his palm against the soaking entrance of her body.
He smeared Helia’s juices all over her curls and rubbed the glistening fluids over his shaft, until, Helia, incoherent with need, thrashed her head wildly back and forth upon the mattress.
“Please, Anthony,” she cried, furiously lifting her hips.
Anthony came down over her, inserted a knee between her trembling thighs, and parted her.
Then, with a torturous languidness, he slid the tip of his rod inside Helia.
At last!
Suddenly he stopped, and Helia keened in misery as he denied her what she craved. “Please.”
His black gaze seared her all the way through. “I’ll be the only one you beg for your pleasure. Is that clear?”
She managed a shaky nod.
“Say the words,” he rasped harshly. Anthony gave her another inch of his length, before he again stopped. “Tell me, and I’ll give you more of this.”
“Only you, Anthony!” Helia screamed. “You will be the only one I ever surrender my body to. I am yours.”
His eyes glinted with that hard, possessive gleam ... and something more. “And I am yours, Helia, my marchioness, my queen.”
With that, Anthony claimed her lips and buried himself to the hilt, deep inside.
She cried out and her entire body spasmed in bliss, relief, and some parts discomfort.
For even as her soaking channel had eased his entry some, his enormous shaft stretched and filled her virginal channel.
Anthony brushed a sweaty curl back behind Helia’s ear and placed a kiss upon her damp brow. “Have I hurt you, little dove?” he asked hoarsely.
“It feels ... you feel so good, Anthony.” Her center throbbed from the force of her need. “Please, don’t stop loving me.” Helia, in a bid to spur him on, thrust her hips up.
“Never,” he rasped, and her words and gyrations seemed to unleash him.
In a powerful rhythm, his body moved over Helia’s. He stroked his length inside her, until that now familiar pressure built between her legs.
She yearned for that peak. Helia hurt with the force of her need for release. Still, Anthony withheld that gift, keeping it an elusive goal that she arched and begged for.
Biting her lower lip, Helia wrapped her arms about him and dug her nails sharply into the contoured muscles of his back. She leaned up into Anthony so as to somehow get herself closer, to no avail.
