Page 95 of The Lyon Returns
He lowered his head and found one peaking nipple through her nightshift with his mouth.No.He needed to feel her, bare.
With a grunt of frustration he released her wrists. When she started to lower them, he said, “No. Stay just like that.”
She complied without a peep of protest.
He shrugged out of his robe, tossing it aside, enjoying the way she angled her head to get a better look at him. Then he went to work, ridding her of her clothing, shimmying the fabric up her legs, over her hips.
He hovered over the exposed pale thatch of curls, his mouth watering with desperate hunger. Lowering his head, he nuzzled her apex and could not contain a wicked laugh when she gasped and shivered. Promising himself he’d be back to explore her secrets, he continued his task, peeling the nightshift and robe higher to uncover her flat belly and the trim waist he’d suffered with the knowledge of from that first night, when she’d stood before the fire in his bedchamber, torturinghim with the outline of her body. He delved his tongue into the small cavity marking her belly button and gave in to the compulsion, the need, to slide his palm over her stomach, her hip, her curls. She wriggled against his hand, hot and damp and so inviting.
Enough.He hoisted himself to his knees and, in one swift move, ripped her clothing up and off her body, tossing the garments aside, uncaring where they might land.
Finally, he feasted his eyes on her. Long and lean, svelte and supple, and all glorious female.
She gazed up at him, eyelids at half-mast, her lower lip caught between straight white teeth. Her body shifted with restless, sexual energy that made the blood sing in his veins.
“Can I…” She reached for him.
“No,” he answered, very sure. Gripping her wrists with one hand, he pressed her arms up to rest against the pillows.
He bent, slowly, bringing his mouth to one breast, his free hand to the other. He pulled one puckering nipple between his lips, rolling his tongue over the bud.
She hummed in pleasure and arched her head back. The evidence of her arousal twisted his insides. His cock, already pulsing and erect, went painfully hard.
He wanted her. Wanted to bury himself inside her. But, he wanted her equally desperate.
He suckled, drawing his hand to her apex. At the discovery of slick moisture there, a whimper tore from his lungs. He parted her, found her opening, and pushed one finger into her.
So hot, so tight.
“Gideon, please,” she begged, rocking her hips.
“Patience, sweetheart,” he whispered hoarsely, easing himself higher to bring his mouth even with hers, to press his body over hers. “Part your legs for me, love,” he murmured against her lips.
On a choked gasp, she did. With his fingers and the tip of his cock,he played over her aroused flesh, heightening her desire, bringing her to the edge of climax, then easing back, again, and again, until she sobbed his name and tore her wrists free of his grasp.
She wrapped her arms around him, scoring his back with her nails, pulling him closer. Her entire body shivered with the force of her need. An answering shudder rolled through his.
He could wait no longer. “Come for me, beautiful. Come. Now.” Watching her face, he tipped her over the edge into ecstasy, then made it last, drawing out her pleasure ’til she lay limp.
Then he brought his hips to hers, guided his shaft to her core and plunged into her channel.
“Ho, God, yes,” he breathed, pumping himself in and out of her as her walls gripped him like a glove, as her channel squeezed him with the echoing ripples of her climax.
Again and again, he sank himself to the hilt, nearly delirious with the feel of her. When she wrapped her legs around him, arching up as she attempted to hold him to her, he lost the ability to breathe. When her body began to shudder beneath his and he realized her second release was upon her, his control shattered. He convulsed above her, loosing a roar of pure male satisfaction and poured his hot seed into her.
He had no idea how much time passed with him lying atop her, still buried inside her, dazed from the state of sheer bliss making love with her had wrought within him. Only when her gentle efforts to stir reminded him he was likely crushing her did he edge off of her and roll onto his back, Gwen in his arms. He was not ready to let her go. Not yet.
He huffed out a laugh as he noticed how much of her hair had found its way out of her braid. Unable to resist, he withdrew the leather strip binding it and combed his fingers through the satiny smooth locks. The fragrance of her shampoo, something floral and fresh, mingled with the scents of their lovemaking.
“Well, sweetheart?”
“Mmm?” She gazed up at him with a delightfully woozy expression on her face.
“Which did you prefer? The carriage, or the bed?”
A slow smile spread over her face and she dropped her forehead onto his chest. “I’m not sure. Perhaps we should try once more.”
To his astonishment, his shaft thickened. He laughed and twisted a fistful of her hair around his wrist before letting it sift through his fingers. “You wish to try out both arenas, or just this one?”
