Page 37 of Lord Ramsey's Red-Headed Ruin
*
She was beingso unfair to him. Chiding him to make love to her. But she was starving for him, and he had so many doubts she had to erase.
Her gaze met his. “You stop again?” she asked.
He smiled, though she did not feel his mirth. He reared back on his knees and took a long, satisfying look at her in her nakedness. “I wish to remember you like this.”
She knew what she looked like. Maurice had often delighted in admiring her naked, flat on her back, or posing before him in one of her cheval mirrors. From her riot of flame-red hair to the sculpted lines of her heart-shaped face, to her full lips and neat chin, she had known from age fifteen she possessed the licentious looks of a lady of the night. Her height, her long neck, her heavy breasts and large nipples—all created the picture of a woman who welcomed a man to enjoy her.
Maurice had loved each inch of her, with hands and mouth and cock. In none of that was any shame, he said, but a celebration of the human rite of mating. Though he knew she was a virgin when he first had her, he had educated her slowly and persuaded her to show and tell him whatever she preferred of his caresses. Through hot hours of pleasure in his arms, he had taught her that making love was an art. A couple had to work for their full joy in mating. Now with Ram, she was more than eager to take and give whatever she could to ensure he had his fill of her…and she of him.
Still, he hesitated—and she could not bear the wait nor his questioning of what they did. She took his hand and led him to cover her breast. Beneath his hot touch, her flesh swelled. She pushed his fingers to her ribs, her waist, to her wide hips and to the curve of one inner thigh. His molten blue eyes met hers as he threaded his fingers through her thatch of hair. She undulated, straining for more of the heat of his possession.
“You are so beautiful, and I hate the lack of candlelight,” he whispered as his tender fingertips played amid her curls.
“Tomorrow in light of day, I will still be yours,” she assured him.
The glance he gave her told her he welcomed that statement. “I should not rush, then?”
“Take all of me. I do want all of you, darling Ram.”
He tugged at her hair, and she opened her legs wider.
He made an animal sound in the back of his throat.
*
What few brightflames the sconces cast off, he would do with tonight. If he were fortunate enough to enjoy her still tomorrow, he would feast on the sight of her then. For this moment, he would taste her and thrill her so she never forgot him.
He’d take his time, imprint her on his soul to savor for years to come. He was done waiting, wanting, pining. She was his gorgeous work, his irresistible woman, and he sent his open palms down her heavy breasts. He lifted both, kissed one nipple, then sucked lavishly the other.
She hummed her delight, and he plucked her nipple as he wended his mouth down her ribs to spread kisses across her stomach.
He sank to his knees and inhaled the sweet fragrance of her desire for him. With a touch to each thigh, he crooned, “Open your legs, darling.”
Her stomach quivering at his command, she did as he asked.
He threaded his fingers through her damp curls. “Wider,” he whispered, and she obeyed, tilting up her hips toward him. “Such a good woman, you are,” he told her in the silence of the night, where the only sound he heard was her whimper telling him that she approved of his fingers sliding inside her.
Her folds were heavy, slick, and warm. He parted her with ease, found the essence of her with his searching fingers, and bent to draw her pearly sweetness into his mouth. With his lips around her little nub, he flicked his tongue around her so she thrashed in a throbbing bliss. Her cries of delight spurred him on to more.
He rose, proud and eager, his breathless lover with her dark, reverent eyes upon him. He took his cock in hand. He glanced down, placed himself at her entrance, and sank slowly, deeply, sweetly inside.
His eyes closed. His heart surged. She was his. Tight, hot, and wet.
She groaned and wrapped her legs around his hips. She had him captured, hers, spellbound. He was in, lost to her, found in her.
Instinct flooded him. He thrust into her and began a rhythm that left him blind to all but her and how she fast held him. The glorious end came with moans of delight and sighs as they collapsed into each other’s care.
*
Their legs entwined,his arms about her, one hand claiming one breast, she grinned and kissed his chest.
He chuckled—and she felt his joy ripple through her own body like an erotic invitation to more loving.
Loath to separate from him, she hugged him closer. “In bed each night before you realized I was against you, I felt the wonder of your body against mine.”
“I knew,” he admitted. “I was a rogue and dallied there longer than I should have.”
