Page 55 of Let Me Be Your Hero
“But,” he continued, flopping onto his back, “you have to take the lead. That way I’ll know we’re only doing things that feel good to you.”
She sat up. There had been a picture like this in the book Harrington kept hidden under his mattress—of a man lying on his back with a woman astride him.
She had liked the way she felt when she looked at that picture…
She swung her leg over Archibald’s torso so that her core was aligned with his. She had liked it when he loomed over her, holding her wrists. When she was entirely at his mercy.
She found that she liked having him at her mercy just as much.
“Oh, dear,” he said, looking up at her. “I recognize that expression. You like this, don’t you?”
“Yes,” she breathed.
“Go on then,” he said, flopping his head back against the pillow and raising his arms over his head. “Do your worst.”
She did.
CHAPTER 25
Lying back on the bed, Archibald reminded himself that he was the luckiest man in all of England.
Even if he was currently in a state of agony.
His beautiful, delightful wife, who displayed every indication that she was going to drive him out of his goddamn mind, sat naked astride his torso, an excited gleam in her eyes. Archibald was coming to know her well enough to understand that this particular gleam foretold good things.
But only after she’d tortured him within an inch of his life.
Izzie smoothed her hands across the planes of his chest, making a sound of pleasure. He still couldn’t believe that she liked his burly frame. It wasn’t fashionable, as his tailor had made clear. But he no longer gave a damn, as apparently, it made his bride wish he would throw her on the bed and ravish her like a Viking, a request that would be extremely easy to grant, given that this was what he wanted to do every time he saw her.
He reminded himself that he had just pledged to lie back and let Izzie do whatever she wanted. It was her turn to ravish him.
Eyes sparkling with mischief, she proceeded to stroke every inch of his torso and arms, cooing with delight and murmuringadmiring words all the while. When she grazed the sensitive skin beneath his arms, he gave a ticklish flinch, and his cock brushed her core.
She seemed to take this as an excellent suggestion because she aligned her bud with the ridge of his cock and began rocking back and forth. Archibald groaned. She was hot and slick and what she was doing simultaneously felt so good, and not nearly good enough. He wanted to grab her by the hips and lower her sweet, tight cunny down onto his cock, but of course, he couldn’t do that.
Izzie tried and failed to assume an innocent expression. “Is anything the matter, Archibald?”
“You’re driving me mad, and you know it,” he gasped.
She tutted. “Oh, no. I haven’t even begun to drive you mad.”
He was trying to decide whether this was a good thing or a bad thing when she slid down the bed, kneeling between his legs. She stroked her hands up and down his thighs. “There was a particular picture in that book my brother had. Would you like to know what it showed?”
“Oh, myGod.”
She let her hands drift up to his pelvis, framing the base of his cock, but not touching him where he needed it. “Would you like for me to give it a try?”
“Yes.”
She laughed. “I haven’t even told you what it is yet.”
“Touch my cock,” he begged. “Please, just touch my cock. I’ve dreamed about you doing this for so long.”
She looked up, a smile curling the corners of her lips. “Have you?”
He was so far gone that he didn’t care what he was admitting. “Yes.”
“Well, since you asked so nicely.”
