Page 31 of Gentlemen Prefer Heiresses
“I can’t reach you,” she bemoaned.
“Preservation, sweetheart.” He kissed the inside of her breast, the underside. “I was on the verge of going mad... and embarrassing myself.”
“Venus said sometimes she touches a man and he spills his seed right then and there. Is that what you mean by embarrassing yourself?”
“Mmm.” He licked his way down her ribs. “But tonight is about pleasuring you.”
“I want us both pleasured.”
“You first.” He nipped at her hip. It tickled more than hurt.
“For that to happen, I need your cock, though, don’t I?”
He gave her a deliciously wicked and sensual smile. “I have a very talented tongue.”
He slid down farther, blew on her curls. She couldn’t believe his face was right there, between her thighs. Raising her knees, she placed her soles on his back, tangled her fingers in his hair. With the tip of his finger, he parted her most intimate lips. “You are so wet.”
She couldn’t help it. She laughed.
“You find that funny?”
“Somerdale said I was as sweet as sugar and would melt if I got wet.”
“Oh, you’re going to melt... into a pool of burning desire.” He lowered his mouth and proceeded to demonstrate that he did indeed have a most clever tongue.
Of their own accord, her hips tilted up, offering her very essence to him. He feasted, sending sensation after sensation roiling through her. She’d never felt anything so sublime. Venus hadn’t told her about this, hadn’t told her that pleasure was a whirlwind of escalating awareness. Throughout her body, nerve endings tingled—even areas to which he wasn’t giving his utmost attention. Oh, but those that he was...
She couldn’t hold back the sighs and moans. Her head pressed back into the pillow, even as she wanted to curl forward. The intimacy he demonstrated nearly caused her to come undone. She couldn’t imagine allowing any other man to lick and suckle there. Him, all she wanted was him, doing things he shouldn’t.
She loved that about him, that he taught her the wickedest things, didn’t consider her too innocent or proper to know what transpired between men and women. That he brought her close to a peak, nearly brought her out of her mind.
Her entire body wanted to clamp around him, hold him close, prevent him from taking her further into the realm of pleasure. The escalating tide frightened her. It was unlike anything she’d ever experienced, but if she was going to make this journey toward ultimate fulfillment, she wanted to make it with him.
She felt as though she’d been cast adrift on an ocean tide, ebbing and flowing, then she was riding the crest, crying out as her back arched, she held him close with her fingers, her thighs, any part of her that could reach him, touch him.
He stilled. Breathing heavily, she collapsed onto the bed, stared at the canopy, striving to regain some semblance of control.
He kissed the inside of one thigh, then the other. Glancing down, she captured and held his gaze. “I want you inside me.”
Easing up, he left a trail of kisses in his wake until he was looking down on her. “No. I won’t ruin you, Gina.”
Desperately, she cradled his face between her hands. “It’s not fair for you to witness me coming completely undone. I want—need—to know you are as affected.”
He lowered his mouth to the underside of her jaw. “I’ll give you a bit, just a bit.”
Shifting, he began rubbing his cock over her little, but extremely sensitive, bud. She reveled in the hardness and his heat reigniting her, his groan. The wonder of it, the closeness, the intimacy. He repositioned himself, and she was aware of the head of his cock poised against her opening. It wasn’t enough.
She wiggled.
“Don’t.” The word came out terse. “I only want to feel you for a moment.” More gently, more sweetly.
“I’m a terrible wanton. I won’t object if you go further.”
“Your husband will.”
She squeezed her eyes shut at the reminder, the affirmation, that he wouldn’t marry her. If forced to give a name to their relationship, she couldn’t. More than friends, not quite lovers. Later she would mourn what couldn’t be between them, but not now. Opening her eyes, she dragged her fingers up and down his back, felt the tenseness in his firm muscles. Working her hand between their bodies, she wrapped her fingers around him and began to stroke the length of him.
His groan echoing pure torment made her giddy. Burying his face against her neck, he wrapped his arms around her, held her close. His breaths quickened, his moans increased. With a low growl, he jerked away from her opening, and hot fluids coated her palm.
