Page 77 of Tempting the Scoundrel
Thorne nipped at her lower lip. “Always bossing me.”
“You had best get used to being bossed,” she murmured, her voice husky. “In bed and out of it. Now stand.”
Thorne did as she asked. As water cascaded off his body, his wife gave him a look of frank look of appreciation that had his cock instantly hard. Alex’s lips curved into a wicked smile. Aye, it was clear she knew the effect she had on him.
Alex grasped the towel beside the bathtub. She dried him off, running her hands across his skin as she did so. In Stratfield Saye, he had marveled at the softness of her palms and fingertips. Writing had altered her right hand over the years. The changes suited her. Her fingers were rough from holding a pen, the ridges of her fingertips stained with black ink, her nails short. He realized then how few people saw her without gloves. No one but Thorne would ever know the hours she spent bent over a desk putting her brilliant mind to paper. Her bare hands were a treasure just for him.
Alex dropped the towel to the floor. Lips replaced hands, pressed to the muscle of his shoulder, collarbone, throat, chest. This, a different sort of gift: petal soft lips, the dart of her tongue against his nipple. A breath shuddered out of him as she reached the lines of his ribcage. She must have felt his response—the hard, jutting length against the front of her dress, ragged exhales, slamming heart—for she gave him a knowing look. Intimacy held a different sort of power, after all. He praised God that she would never hesitate to take it for her own. He was only too glad to yield it to her.
She dropped to her knees and took his cock into her mouth.
A sound exploded from him. It didn’t matter that she was not practiced, for she was eager. Her hands slid around to his buttocks and her nails scored his skin as she worked him with her lips and tongue. Then—Christ god—she slid her hand beneath her skirts to rub her cunny. Her soft moan almost brought him to completion.
God. God.He was so close to climax. Too close. If she didn’t—
Thorne grasped Alex up and lifted her into his arms. Her laugh was husky as he carried her into the bedroom and set her down. “I think you enjoy seeing me at your mercy,” he said, undoing the buttons at the back of her dress.
“I enjoyed having your cock in my mouth,” she told him with that wicked smile.
He fumbled with the buttons. Where in god’s name had she learned such language? He loved it. He lovedher.
Too many buttons.Fuck the buttons.He took the material in a hard grip and tore. The heavy, damp fabric of her dress fell to the floor.
“I liked that one.” Her breathing was fast as he shoved down her petticoat and deftly unlaced her corset.
“I’ll buy you a new one. I’ll buy you a new dress every day if I have to,” he said, finishing off her clothing.
There was no part of Alex that wasn’t beautiful. Everything from her breasts to the generous flare of her hips were fashioned from his most perverse fantasies. There was no shame in her regard; she stood before him without an ounce of shyness. Her expression was a dare, and he was more than happy to meet it.
He set his lips to hers, hands on either side of her face as he kissed her deeply. It had been so long since he’d held her naked, since he had been given the privilege of touching her. He felt fevered as he slid his hands down her back to the lush curve of her arse. She gave a soft moan as he pressed his thigh against the core of her—she was wet. So fucking wet.
Alex shoved him onto the bed and crawled on top of him. “Arms up,” she commanded.
Thorne gave a slow smile, and put his arms over his head. “Bossing me?”
“Always.”
“Proposal?”
She leaned down and gave his earlobe a lick. “Me on top.”
Oh, he loved the sound of that. “Conditions?”
Her lips trailed down the line of his jaw. “You are not to touch me until you beg for it.”
Christ, she was going to drive him mad. Nick went for nonchalant: he gave her gorgeous body a frank once-over. “What if I have you begging?” he asked her in a low voice.
Alex seemed both surprised and delighted by his suggestion. She gave a laugh. “Then you may do whatever you like,” she said. “Agreed?”
He swallowed back a soft groan as she slid her wet heat against his cock. “Agreed.”
She pressed her lips to his pulse, then scraped her teeth down the line of his neck. With a roll of her hips, she rubbed herself against him once more. Teasing. Slow. When she straightened, she stared down at him as if she were a conquering force, seeking his weaknesses. Understanding that he was so close to yielding. And he was. Thorne’s hands tightened in the sheets, a fight against some animal instinct to take her beneath him.
When she rose up and took his cock inside her, he arched beneath her with a sharp cry.Christ, he almost begged her. Almost uttered some unintelligible plea to touch her, cup her beautiful breasts, gather her hair in his fist as she plundered his defenses and left him gasping.
But no. He bit his lip. He would wait, bide his time, let her pleasure herself. Watch her make new discoveries, learn which things brought her satisfaction. For this was uncharted territory, a new lesson they were learning together. She moved against him, tossing her head back with a soft groan. She was some work of art, a study in ecstasy: golden hair coming loose from its pins, lips parted, the long pale line of her neck betraying a frantic pulse at her throat, the sway of her breasts as she rode him.
Thorne gripped the sheets to keep from touching her. He had other ways of making her beg. “If you let me touch you,” he said, very softly, “I’ll kiss every inch of you.”
