Page 55 of What a Courtesan Wants
In the weeks since they had reconciled and become betrothed, they’d grown closer than ever, flourishing together without the previous boundaries that had kept them on opposite ends of a wide gulf. He found her as irresistible as ever, especially now that she’d begun to open herself to him and show him how kind, warm, and giving she could be. She’d begun bonding with Elizabeth, and basked in the motherly attention of Mrs. Baines, who slyly reminded Aubrey every chance she got that she had predicted the union. Of course, so had Dominick, but the man had simply issued a dry laugh upon hearing of their betrothal and muttered, “I told you so.”
“What’s this?” he asked, watching as Lucinda submitted herself to him, waiting silently for him to take advantage of her position and nudity. “I did not ask you to come to me this way tonight.”
She peered up at him with a shy smile. “I know. But you look as if you have a lot on your mind. And while you cannot solve a world’s worth of problems in one evening, we both know you will try if left to your own devices. You look as if you could use a distraction.”
And what a distraction she was, naked and willing, an irresistible temptation. Sitting up straighter in his chair, he raked his gaze over the hills and valleys of her form, his cock stirring with predictable swiftness.
“Come to me, Lucy-love.”
Her cheeks went pink with pleasure at the sound of his new pet name for her. It had simply started falling from his lips, and he liked it as much as she seemed to.
Lucinda fell forward onto her hands, crawling toward him with a sensuous intent that left him speechless. Back arched, breasts swaying, legs moving with grace, she made him want to fall on her then and there, before finding the first orifice his cock could fit into and impaling her. He was completely hard, the needy organ in his breeches begging to be sheathed in her.
When she reached him, Lucinda knelt up between his spread legs, hands resting on his thighs. Stroking her way up toward his groin, she gazed upon him with eyes gone heavy-lidded with desire. He bit back a groan at the brush of her fingers against the hard ridge pressing against his fall, teasing his balls and then the length of his shaft.
He reached out one hand to stroke her cheek, then smoothed his knuckles down her neck and collarbone, pushing her hair over her shoulder to bare one breast.
“So beautiful,” he murmured, watching with rapt hunger the way her nipple puckered and hardened in response to his touch. “Sometimes I can hardly believe that you’re real … that you’re mine.”
“But I am,” she moaned, arching her back as he cupped her breast and gently plied the tip between his thumb and forefinger. “Yours to do with as you please, Sir.”
He continued his path downward, stroking down her belly and circling the little hollow of her navel. Then, he was threading his fingers through the curls between her legs and dipping his middle finger into her center. She gasped, tightening her grip on his thighs and trembling as he sank into her velvety depths and then withdrew, circling over the bud of her clit before raising his gleaming finger to the firelight.
“Wet,” he groaned before taking the finger into his mouth and licking himself clean of her juices. “Sweet.”
His control fell away, and any intention he might have to toy with or tease her fell away. He’d been ravenous for her like never before, wanting and needing to be with her in the most elemental of ways. There were still nights when he went into his valise, mastering her with the riding crop, his plugs, his clamps, his restraints. But on nights like tonight, when he felt so full of love for her he thought he might burst, there was no time for any of it.
“I need you now, Lucy-love,” he murmured, coming to his feet and dragging her up with him, taking hold of her buttocks and pressing her tight against him.
“Yes,” she whimpered against his mouth, submitting to his kiss with an eagerness that told him she was as desperate for him as he was for her.
He lifted her into his arms, ignoring the phantom twinges of pain lingering after his injury.
“Your ribs—”
He smothered her words with another kiss, urging her long legs around him as he carried her toward the bed.
“Stop worrying. I’m all healed.”
His head no longer bothered him, and his ribs proved no more than a minor annoyance. Just now, he couldn’t think past the throbbing of his cock and the itching of his hands for how badly he wanted to touch her, hold her, and make love to her.
He braced one knee on the bed, coming up over her as he laid her down, pushing her knees up and apart as he began sinking down her body. He sucked one nipple between his lips, lashing it with his tongue on the way down, then the other.
“You have my permission to come as many times as you please tonight. In fact, by the time I’m finished with you, I wager you’ll be begging me tostopmaking you spend.”
She gasped and writhed in his hold, but he only tightened his grip on her thighs as he lowered his head toward the silken flesh between them. He thrust his tongue into her tight opening, then withdrew and licked his way up to the beckoning pink bud at her center. A moan simmered in his throat at the feel and taste of her on his tongue—silk and salt, velvet and musk. Her wetness slicked his lips, drowning him in the waters of her desire and lust.
She moaned and shook, fingernails rasping against the damask of the counterpane as she gave him her first climax. He waited until her arched back had relaxed and she’d sank into the mattress to release her from his mouth, licking the lingering taste of her from his lips.
“More,” he rasped, promptly thrusting two fingers into her. “Don’t forget your manners.”
Lucinda’s thighs clenched around his hand, but he nudged them apart, pressing his thumb to the slick nub at her center and curling his fingers within her.
“Thank … you … Sir, I … oh!”
“That’s it,” he crooned, finding the soft, spongy part of her channel guaranteed to bring her to another explosive ending, stroking it at the same rhythm he stimulated her clit. “Give me more, Lucy. Come for me again.”
She seemed to fight against it while straining toward it, her entire body jolting and shaking, her hips rising off the bed. He was relentless, enraptured by the way pleasure transformed her—flushing her cheeks, parting her lips, making her eyes glitter like precious gems. Her sheath clenched around him, and she muffled a scream with the back of her hand, hips bucking in time with his rhythmic thrusts. She drenched his knuckles with her release, jolting aftershocks still rattling her long after he’d pulled away to lap the remnants of her off his fingers.
