The need to consummate this union left his cock solid, his ballocks heavy. Matters were already spiralling. He longed to part her legs and push inside her warmth. The urge to pump hard made it impossible to think.
He tore his mouth from hers while he still had an ounce of control. “Daventry was wrong about me. I’m more than a little dangerous. If we don’t stop now, I’m going to have you right here on the damn carriage seat.”
The lady touched her fingers to her lips, fingers that slid slowly down to her throat and breast as she gasped for breath. Every sensual movement said she wanted to feel him thrusting inside her, filling her, fucking her.
Mother of all saints!
He closed his eyes and tried to temper his arousal, but the minx put her hand on his thigh. “I’ve had to be strong all my life, but I cannot fight this, Christian. I’m told there are ways to ease a man’s tension, a means of giving pleasure without giving my virtue. You’ll have to tutor me. Hurry. We might not get a moment alone together again.”
He thought of pinching himself to check he wasn’t dreaming.
But Isabella kissed him, her tongue sliding over his as her hand slipped higher up his thigh. “I need you. But it has to be on my terms.” Tentatively, she dared to touch the cockstand in his trousers. “You must give me some control over what’s happening.”
“Do with me what you will.”
And so there, in a carriage rattling through the streets of London, Christian unbuttoned his trousers and let his erection spring free. He showed her how to hold him and pump in just the right way to give maximum pleasure.
“Is it normal to be so big?” she panted, her dainty hand moving nervously up and down his shaft, slowly building to an intoxicating rhythm. “Lovemaking almost seems impossible.”
“Trust me. It’s possible.” He’d never made love, had only ever chased his release. Despite his current state of dishabille, this was different. “Let me touch you, Isabella. Kiss me. Don’t worry if you lose your rhythm.”
He waited for her nod of approval before claiming her mouth in a searing kiss. “That’s it, love,” he breathed as she worked him with ease. God, it felt so good. “Come a little closer. Let me hike up your skirts.”
She did as he asked, her dark eyes fluttering closed as he slid his hand up her silky thigh and stroked his thumb over her sex. “Christian.”
“Do you like me touching you, Isabella?”
Beneath lids heavy with desire, she looked at him, them both inhaling sharply when he slipped a long finger inside her.
“You’re so wet, love.”
“You say that like you find it arousing?”
“I’m on the verge of losing control.” His shaft swelled beneath her novice fingers. Despite her lack of experience, she drove him wild. “I’ve never been so solid.”
She took that as a cue to pump his cock.
Merciful Lord! He was going to come hard and fast in a bloody carriage. But he resisted the urge to relax against the squab and take his pleasure. He wanted to stroke her, ensure they came together.
She wasn’t far from release. Not if her arched back and thrusting hips were any indication.
“Kiss me,” he commanded, though he wanted to drag her onto his lap and impale her. Hell, he was losing his mind. “But whatever you do, love, don’t stop touching me.”
Don’t ever stop touching me.
Their mouths met, their tongues dancing seductively, stoking lust’s flames. She came first, moaning against his lips, shuddering and calling his name.
He covered her hand, moving it to the base of his shaft as his climax ripped through him, and he spurted over his own blasted fingers.
Saints and sinners!
He was shaking—the aftershocks of his release rocking him to his core. “That was so damn good, love.”
“Yes,” she panted.
But then they stilled, realising the vehicle was stationary and Daventry was outside talking to Gibbs.
“Damnation!” Christian whipped his hand from under Isabella’s skirts and yanked a handkerchief from his coat pocket. He cleaned himself while she tucked loose curls into her bonnet and straightened her pelisse.
