Page 40 of A Baron's Scandalous Quill
“It’s not a bargaining thing,” he assured her. “I did it because I wanted to, to show you such pleasure. I ask for nothing in return.”
“I know.” She smiled sweetly. “But I want to as well.”
“God, Becca. You really will be the death of me.” He closed his eyes and moved his lips to hers, kissing her intensely.
It was like the tension between them suddenly broke. They both reached for one another, their hands grasping, pulling at clothes. She tugged at his tailcoat, trying to get it off him, as he pulled ather gown, desperate to be nearer to her. Somehow, in the heat of their kisses, his lips moving up and down her neck, across her chest, then back to her cheek and lips, he lost that tailcoat, and his cravat followed.
He found the laces of her gown, undoing them with scrambling fingers, then she went to help him, not even pulling back from their kiss as they lowered the gown down over her shoulders and her arms, where it dropped to the floor with the soft thudding fall of cloth.
She stepped out of the gown, parting from their kiss momentarily. Dressed now only in her stays and chemise, her shoes kicked off, William was entranced by the sight of her. The willowy figure was accented in its curves by the stays.
He longed to shed every thread that was between them, to feel her smooth body against his own, nothing between them at all, but he would never push her. They were already bending all the rules to share what they did between them, and he wouldn’t blame her for saying at any point that it would be too far.
She stepped toward him, her mischievous smile growing as she pulled at his shirt. It left his body, thrown away, then she reached for his trousers. She kissed her way down her chest and ended up on her knees before him, pulling at his trousers until they started to come down his hips.
As his length was revealed, he watched her reaction, finding his longing for her growing by the second. Her lips parted in awe, and her hand went wandering. She trailed her fingers across his hip, getting increasingly closer to his length. When her hand touched him, he growled beneath his breath. The pleasure had begun, that feeling writhing in his gut.
She moved toward him with her head. Just moments before her lips found him, he realized what she was going to do. He barely had a chance to wonder where she had heard that such things could be done. Had she read about such acts? Had she heard of such things in the backstreets of London?
The thoughts flew from his mind as her lips found him.
She started slow and tentatively at first, her exploration of him so curious that he had to hold himself back, keeping his hips as still as possible. The movement of her lips and mouth, along with her hand at the base of his length was driving him mad. The pleasure sizzled in his gut and felt as if it ran up his chest until a shiver of pleasure ran up his spine.
She moved faster, her movements becoming bolder and more assured. Clearly, she read him well, for when her hand found his hip and he moaned, she gripped him harder. Her other hand went exploring, moving up the center of his chest and sometimes reaching around to his rear. The constant movement of thosefingers, the teasing sensation, coupled with the pleasure she was causing, was enough to drive him near the edge.
He was seconds from it now, certain to find that finish, but he couldn’t let it happen. Not like this, not without her tasting pleasure, too.
“Becca,” he moaned her name, pleading with her. She looked up at him, her blue eyes so intense that he nearly finished there and then. “On your back.”
She released him, a curious look in her eyes, but she did as he asked. He sank down to his knees before her, pulling at one of her legs so that he could part her legs and bend down toward her. He didn’t pleasure her with his fingers, but his tongue alone, kissing her in her most intimate of areas, with her chemise flicked up around her hips.
The sounds that fell from her lips as she gripped his rug were everything. He reached down, clasping a hand around his length, bringing them both toward their end.
He focused on everything about Becca, the way her back arched with pleasure, how she parted her legs wider still, wanting him more and more. He heard her breathy moans, the way she said his name.
When she reached her edge, it was his undoing. She reached her climax as he did his own. He spilled himself on the rug, knowinghe would not risk getting near her in case it risked a child. He growled with his release, moaning, though he tried to stifle the sound as best as he could as she buried her face into the rug, muffling her own sounds of pleasure.
As they came down from their highs, both still exploring one another, she pulled him up so he fell over her. They kissed one another, their bodies falling together. The heat was still there, but they were both satiated now.
He gasped, catching his breath as he buried his face in her neck.
“That was…incredible,” he confessed as she giggled.
“It truly was.”
Becca could not stop looking at William across the room, just as he could not stop staring at her either.
They had spent a long time in that chamber together before they had shared lunch and then returned to his father’s room. Now fully clothed, though William had lost his tailcoat and had his shirt sleeves rolled up to his elbows, they kept darting desirous gazes at one another across the space as they talked.
They’d spoken of Shakespeare and the theatre, and of their favorite books, and were now onto the matter of their favorite foods.
“At Christmas? Oh, it has to be figgy pudding,” she assured him as she opened up another of his father’s coffers so they could search through the papers together.
“Ah, now you’re talking.” He laughed, sitting down nearby and taking the papers she had passed to him to look through. “Though I think it would be hard to beat the taste of a good mince pie at Christmas.”
“With brandy butter?”
“With all the trimmings.”
