“Do you like it? Not every woman does.”
She tried to understand what he meant, but her brain was too fuzzy. “I’m sure I’ll like anything you do.”
“You’ve not done this before?” His brows went up.
She shook her head.
“Good. Tell me if you want me to stop.” He nuzzled her inner thigh then parted her with his fingers. The next thing she knew, his mouth was warm on her sex and his tongue slid over her. She managed to keep from bucking at the pleasure just as he closed his mouth on a particularly sensitive spot. She couldn’t stop a cry, and he looked up at her, a question in his eyes.
“Please don’t stop,” she said, her voice rough and staccato with pants.
He gave her a nod and lowered his head again, and this time she felt his tongue circle the spot where she was pulsing and aching. Tendrils of pleasure uncurled in her belly and spread up to her breasts and down to her heavy legs. Her toes curled and her fingers clenched the soft bedclothes as he licked and sucked and flicked. She closed her eyes, her entire body curving into itself. She was vaguely aware she was saying something or moaning, but she didn’t care. She didn’t care about anything except the mounting pleasure.
She could feel the tidal wave building, and she so wanted the pleasure to crash over her. She sobbed with need, arched her hips, and then Rory stopped teasing and slid his tongue over her, hard. The wave crashed, and she tumbled right into it, swirling under the water and being pulled down into the intense pleasure.
She thought she might drown, might stay under forever as her body pulsed and thrummed. But gradually, she surfaced, opening her eyes to see Rory looking down at her.
“For someone who didn’t want the servants to know what she was doing,” he said, “I think you may have awakened the house.”
*
Rory watched asher already flushed face went even pinker. She was so beautiful right now, her eyes impossibly green, her lips swollen from his kisses, her skin almost translucent and glowing. He couldn’t stop touching her. He loved the shape of her, from those hard, dusky nipples to her small waist to her generous hips. He wanted to turn her over and take a handful of her substantial bottom, but he would have to save that for later.She was staring up at him as though she were in a daze, and from her reaction to the orgasm, she well might be.
He didn’t claim to be any sort of libertine, but he’d never been with a woman who had reacted as she had. She’d said he might think her a wanton, and he did. She was wanton in the very best way. She was either a very good actress or she really enjoyed what he was doing. After years of marriage to a woman who went cold and tense every time he touched her, and then a couple of fleeting encounters with jaded widows, Genevieve’s reaction was more than welcome. He didn’t know women could enjoy the act this much. She clearly liked his tongue on her, though she said she’d never done that.
His cock was hard now, so hard it ached with need. He’d wanted her before, but her reaction had only heightened his desire. He would have slid into her as she came, but he wanted her to be aware of what he was doing, and she’d been completely enraptured.
“Was I that loud?” she whispered.
“No,” he lied, hoping he could make her cry out like that again. He moved off the bed, and she rose on her elbows, her wild hair falling around her shoulders. He’d wanted his hands in that hair ever since he’d first seen her. He hadn’t been disappointed at how soft and thick it felt between his fingers. Another time he’d wrap it around his hand and hold her close. But now he wanted to be inside her, needed to be inside her. He reached for the drawstring of his trousers, his gaze going to Genevieve’s face. He half expected her to look nervous, but her expression was one of interest and…was that eagerness?
He’d never expected this from her. Her reaction only made him more aroused, and he hoped he didn’t embarrass himself by climaxing too quickly. He dropped his trousers, and her lips parted. She let out a breath, her gaze on his cock then slidingup his chest and finally meeting his eyes. “You’re beautiful,” she said.
It was a strange thing for a woman to call a man, but he didn’t object. “You are the one who’s beautiful.”
She shook her head. “I never imagined I’d marry someone like you,” she said.
“I might say the same.” He crawled back on the bed, and she parted her legs, seemingly unselfconscious. Either that or she was ready for him to settle between them. She put her arms about his shoulders and tugged him down, so his chest rubbed against her breasts. Her legs went around him, her sex rising to slide against his throbbing cock.
“I thought I was in charge,” he joked.
“Then hurry and be in charge,” she said.
He was glad she wasn’t a virgin. He didn’t think he could have taken his time or been gentle. He slid his hands under her hips, lifting then sliding into her. She was so wet the path was slick and easy, and he buried himself to the hilt in her heat. She tightened around him, making him groan and clutch at her hips to try to keep control. He looked down at her, wanting to make certain she was still enjoying this, but her eyes were closed, her lips parted. “Genevieve?”
Her eyes fluttered open, and he moved inside her, slowly, sliding out and then deeper within her.
“Do you like this?”
“Yes.” She gasped.
“There?” he asked. He could feel her clench around him, feel her tremble when he moved deeper.
“Oh, yes. Rory. Yes.”
He thought she might climax again, which was remarkable, as he’d felt how powerful her first orgasm was. He needed to make this last, give her time to build to that intensity. It was difficult, though, to hold back. She was so tight, clasping himand releasing. And it had been some time since he’d had any sort of release. He felt a line of perspiration on his brow as he fought for control. It would be so easy to lose himself in her—the feel of her, the scent of her, the heat.
“Rory,” she said. He realized he had his eyes closed and opened them. She was gazing at him, and he could actually see the desire in her gaze. She wanted him. As if to prove that, she lifted a hand and touched his cheek. Rory felt his chest tighten at the surge of emotion this small action elicited. She was moving with him now, and he was reaching a crescendo. He should look away, force himself to hold back. But he couldn’t break the eye contact, and the last thing he saw as he went over the cliff was the tenderness in her eyes.
