Page 31 of A Most Unsuitable Lover
“I couldn’t wait until tomorrow,” she breathed against his lips, meeting each one of his nips and caresses with one of her own. My, how quickly she’d improved in this. Not that any of their kisses had been bad, per se, but this confidence was new. And arousing. He had to fight not to grind his hips against hers. God, what he wouldn’t give to taste her again. Their interlude in the library had been transcendent, beyond anything he could have ever imagined. She tasted like honeyed mead and her soft sounds of surrender when she came would no doubt haunt him until his dying days.
His hands drifted lower to the globes of her bottom, pressing her against his rapidly growing length. She sighed when she felt the heat of his arousal pressing against the softness of her abdomen, insistent against the layers of her skirts.
He needed more.
In one swift move, Ian hiked her up into his arms, easily lifting her against him, backing her toward a dark shape that looked vaguely chaise-shaped now that his eyes were adjusting to the poor lighting. She instinctively locked her ankles around his hips and it was impossible for him not to imagine her doing that as he pounded into her, claiming her again and again as his and his alone. It was a stupid, futile thought, but if a man couldn’t fantasize in the throws of passion, then what did he have?
Juliette’s lips trailed along his jaw, pressing hungry, open-mouthed kisses as he lowered her to the cushions. Bracing one leg on the floor and the other knee balanced upon the chaise, he was finally able to achieve the leverage his aching body desired. He rocked against her and her every gasp drove him higher and higher. He could feel the warmth at the crux of her thighs even though the falls of his breeches and her undergarments; the friction of his rock-hard cock against the fabric wasn’t what he desired, but he was so very close to what he wanted most that he almost didn’t care.
Almost.
He nipped her neck, nibbling a trail down to the swells of her perfect, pert breasts. His tongue dipped below the neckline of her dress to tease the edge of her cleavage while he palmed one of her breasts, wondering silently at its excellent fit for him. Juliette arched her back and pressed herself more firmly into his touch when his thumb discovered her pebbled nipple and teased it through the fabric.
“Ian!” she gasped, her hips rotating against him. He happily obliged and used his pelvis to provide a counterpressure to her desperation. The room around them echoed with their sighs and gasps.
Ian wanted to touch her petal-soft flesh. He longed to taste every inch of her. She drove him mad with her coy glances and innocent attempts at seduction. It was time she knew a fraction of what she put him through; of the thoughts that kept him awake and aching long into the night until he finally caved to his baser needs and brought himself to a frustrated, unfulfilled climax.
“You’re wet for me, aren’t you lass?” he ground out. Her trembling fingers stilled in his hair. “Here,” he whispered harshly; “the part of you which aches for me the most. It’s wet with your need, is it not?” He couldn’t make out the details of her features, but he was certain her fair cheeks flushed as they were wont to do. “Touch yourself.” He demanded, desperately needing her to do so—to caress her flesh in a way he dared not, lest he lose all control once and for all. He could live through her or perish waiting.
She hesitated until he took her hand and gently guided it lower between them. Her knuckles brushed his painfully hard arousal and his breath hissed through his teeth. He covered her hand with his. “Here. Tell me how wet you are.” His voice lowered further. “Touch yourself like you do only when you’re alone in the dark. Or soaking in the tub.”
She took a shaky breath and cupped her sex. He sensed the weakening of her resolve and the small movements of her fingers, parting the damp petals, gently, tentatively stroking. When she released a small moan, his body trembled. When she gasped and her pelvis undulated, pressing her against his throbbing cock, he saw stars.
His desire rumbled up from deep within his chest as he pressed his lips to the hammering pulse in her throat. “Tell me,” he commanded.
“I—I can’t,” she whimpered. He could hear her arousal in her voice. She may have been shy, but she was not averse at all to what they were doing.
“You can,” he insisted. “You must because you coerced me into this position, you dragged me into this room, and you know damn well I cannot do all the things I want to do to you.” His accent was as thick and heavy as the heated air between them. She turned her face into his throat. “I want to feel how wet I make you in your most secret of places. I want to taste you there. I want to fill you.”I want to brand you and claim you asmine.He ground against her, pressing her hand more firmly against her body, sliding her fingers deep within her. She gasped and breathed against the hot strip of flesh beneath his jaw and above the edge of his cravat. It was pure torture. He loved and hated it at the same time. “I want to bring you pleasure until everything except my name leaves your mind.” She moaned softly against him; he could feel the back of her hand working more furiously against the front of his breeches.
“Yes,” Juliette breathed, her head falling back to the cushion of the chaise. Her thighs trembled around his hips. Even without touching her directly, he knew her climax was close.
“Are you wet for me?” he demanded.
He felt more than saw her nod.
“Show me.”
She worked her arm and hand back up between them. His nostrils flared with the warm, honeyed scent of her arousal. Ian couldn’t help it, he captured her fingers between his lips and sucked. She squealed in surprise at first, but it quickly melted away and matched his groan of delight as his tongue swirled and savored her nectar. He pressed his aching cock firmly against the moist notch of her sex, thrusting and grinding, cursing every layer of fabric between them, but knowing it was the only thing keeping him from making an irrevocable mistake.
“So delicious,” he growled before catching her mouth with his, continuing his long, firm, languorous thrusts against her body. The hitch in her breathing told him he was hitting just the right angle and he continued onward, relentlessly pursuing both her pleasure and his own.
She clutched at his flexing shoulders and hooked one leg around his hips as best she could with her skirts trapped beneath her body and one of his legs.
“Ian,” she sobbed, and he knew she was just there.
When she shattered beneath him, all grasping hands and trembling limbs, mouth wide in a silent scream, he tumbled after her with three more furious rolls of his hips. His orgasm began in the base of his spine, exploding from him with furious force and flying through his every limb with the most exquisite of agonies.
Eventually, Ian unscrewed his eyes and, when his vision returned as much as it was going to in the dark room, he gazed down at Juliette. There was a glint of an eye, the shadow of a smile, the pale swells of her breasts heaving above the edge of her bodice with her every panting breath.
He’d never done anything like this before, never experienced an orgasm in quite this manner, and by God, it had been glorious. He hardly cared that he’d come in his breeches like a randy lad seeing his first pair of tits. No. All he cared about was the glorious woman reaching up and cautiously cupping his cheek in her palm.
“Oh, Ian,” she sighed.
And he was dangerously content.
Chapter Fourteen
Juliette’s body continued to tingle the rest of the evening and into the following day. It made it particularly difficult for her to concentrate on any of the conversations bubbling around her, and she nearly sent a ball through the library window when she attempted to participate in a game of pall mall. It was decided that all would be safer if she handed over her mallet and became a spectator. It turned out she was useless at that as well because she completely forgot to clap when the game concluded. All she could think about was Ian’s body covering hers and the sounds he made when he finally caught up to his release.
