Page 97 of A Devil in Silk
A thought came unbidden, shocking in its boldness. What would it be to take him in her mouth, to own him as he had owned her? Before fear stole her courage, she sank to her knees.
“Clara, wait.” Startled, his eyes flared, but she only smiled.
She would not let him keep all the power. Her hand closed around him, her mouth following, hungry to taste the man she loved, the man who had undone her so completely.
“Clara, no!”
The protest broke on a groan, his head tipping back. The sound thrilled her. She loved the weight of him in her hand, the heat of his skin, the way his body betrayed him with every shudder. For once, he was utterly at her mercy.
She took him deeper, lips closing around him, imagining this must be how a woman pleasured a man, her tongue stroking until his curse split the air.
His hand clamped her shoulder, the pressure betraying his desperate restraint. “Clara … God help me. Stop … I. Won’t. Last.”
“Then take me now, Bentley.”
He drew her up, his mouth hot on hers again. His hands roamed her bare skin as if needing to claim every inch, though his touch gentled when she shivered. She felt the battle within him, possession warring with control.
Possession won. He shed the last barrier between them and pulled her astride him on the bed. His gaze locked with hers, dark with need. “Ride me,” he rasped. “Be my princess of Persia. Your body burns so fiercely, I could believe we’re in the desert.”
A smile tugged at her lips, the thought more thrilling than a night at the amphitheatre. “You want me to take up the saddle?”
“Hell, yes.” He gave her a roguish wink. “You know what to do.”
Her laugh melted into a moan as she straddled him, lowering herself onto his thick length, sheathing him slowly. The stretch stole her breath, a sweet ache that made her shudder, yet the sight of him watching her with raw, unguarded hunger only made her bolder.
His hands closed firmly on her hips. “That’s it. Take me. Take all of me.”
Her head tipped back, hair spilling over her shoulders as she began to move—slowly at first, then faster as instinct took hold. Heat coiled low in her belly, spreading with every delicious thrust and glide.
Bentley’s gaze never wavered. He watched her as if spellbound, lips parted, his face etched with strain and wonder. The way he looked at her … it was hard not to believe she was beauty itself.
“Yes, love,” he groaned. “Don’t stop.”
She leaned forward, her mouth seeking his, kissing him deeply. His tongue drove against hers, each plunge answering the roll of her hips, every stroke drawing her higher until the world fell away.
He tightened his grip, rocking her back and forth with a strength that stole her control. Each movement sent him deeper, filling her until she gasped at the sheer force of sensation.
“Touch yourself,” came his husky murmur. “I’ll make you come again tonight.”
The command sent a shiver through her. She obeyed, her fingers finding the place where their bodies joined, the added pressure sparking waves of pleasure that made her cry out. He groaned at the sight, gripping her harder, urging her to ride the crest with him.
Her fingers circled with growing urgency, each stroke magnified by his relentless thrusts. The pleasure built swiftly until it tore through her in a rush that stole her voice. She clenched around him, shuddering with the force of release.
“Bentley…” Her cry was half-plea, half-ecstasy, as she writhed against him.
He groaned, his grip fierce on her hips. “That’s it, love. Let me feel you. I’m so deep.”
The intensity of his words sent another tremor through her. Before the last shudder faded, he flipped her onto her back, pressing her into the mattress and covering her with his weight. His mouth claimed hers in a frantic kiss.
“I’m not finished with you yet,” he rasped against her lips.
He caught her wrists, pinning them above her head as he slid into her with aching slowness. His lips brushed her brow, then her mouth, each touch reverent.
“You’re exquisite.” He spoke like he believed it, the conviction in his voice casting light into every shadow. “Do you hear me? Let no one tell you otherwise.”
This was more than desire. It was the quiet wonder of knowing she had found her match. A man who saw her flaws and cherished her for them. Love burned fiercely, though she had never spoken of it. He deserved to know, but not while they werelost to passion. She held his gaze, willing him to see the truth there.
“Own me, Bentley.”
