And then he captured her lips before another word could escape. A delicate shiver rippled through her body as he cradled her in his arms and invaded her mouth. He pushed past lips, teeth, and tongue to discover the heated depths of her. He traced the arching roof of her mouth and then dropped down to twine his tongue around her own. The sensuous slide of each of them exploring the other had his cock straining hard to escape his trousers. Yet, he wasn’t sure he was willing to risk her safety to pleasure himself in such a manner. What if she became pregnant because of him?
But then the sweetness of her burst through his thoughts, scattering them like mist. All he could focus on was how good she felt in his arms. After an eternity of kissing that was still not enough, he withdrew to trail kisses down the column of her neck. The pale skin beckoned him as he swept down the length of it and over her collar bone. She shivered again as he allowed the edge of fabric at her neckline to be his guide. When he reached the hollow between her breasts, he could not help himself; his tongue darted out to taste and explore. He wanted to strip her bare and have his fill of her, and he would in time. He had no intention of rushing things when this might be his only opportunity to secret away enough memories to last him a lifetime. Because he knew after this, no other woman would compare for him. No other would be as perfectly suited to him as fair Rosalind. And yet, he knew she would never be his. Could never be his.
Reaching behind her, he worked the laces of her gown free while he worked his way up the other side of her chest. Finally, the bodice gaped forward, exposing her corset and undergarments. With trembling hands, he pulled the top part of her gown free and moved on to the next obstacle, her skirts. There, he quickly released the ties for her skirt, underskirts, and crinolines, letting the whole pile sink into a billowing heap at her feet.
The vision she presented had his lungs seizing as he found her wearing nothing but her corset, under-blouse, garters, and hose. She was the picture of seduction with her red-blonde hair piled in jaunty curls and her rouged lips smiling in welcome. All she needed was a staff, a green field, and a flock of sheep, and she would have made a picture-perfect shepherdess. Alas, he would have to suffice as her flock for the moment.
Unable to physically lift her with his injuries, he helped her step free of the piles of fabric. She hesitated and bit her lip. Her big green eyes looked up at him, filled with worry. “Are you sure you are in any shape to engage in such activity?”
He glanced down at his cock with a wry grin. “I can’t think of a better shape to be in to engage in such activity.”
“Do not jest. I do not wish to cause you pain. Your ribs may yet be broken, and your face and hands are a mess.” Worry tinged her voice.
Perhaps she was having second thoughts? Yet the thought of her causing him a little pain as she rode him had him growing harder if that were even possible. He struggled for a moment and then wrestled the words free from his lips. “If you’ve changed your mind about wanting to seduce me, then we shall stop immediately. I’ve no intention of forcing an unwilling woman to my bed.”
Pink flared delicately across her cheekbones as she shook her head. “My desire for you has not changed; I am merely concerned for your health.”
He pulled her into his arms. “Do not worry; I have survived far worse injuries than this smattering of bruises.”
Desire wove itself around the throb of his lip and the ache of his ribs as he pulled her into his arms. She trembled still, or perhaps it was again, he wasn’t sure any longer as his lips slowly lowered to press against hers. The soft pillow of her kiss was akin to sinking into an ethereal cloud. And then he probed past lips and teeth to once more find the warm haven of her mouth.
With a moan that rocked him to his core, she snaked her hands up around his neck and hung on to him as though she might never let go. He set his hands free to roam over her lush curves and, ultimately, to find the laces of her corset. As fetching as she looked, the garment needed to be gone with all due haste.
He continued the sensual slide of their tongues as they kissed, all need of breath set aside for the greater desire to taste and touch each other. Breathing had become secondary.
Finding the knot of her laces, he worked them free as he continued to feast on her. All the while, she pressed against him as though she wished to crawl inside him and stay, and he couldn’t say the notion was unappealing. Something about this woman made his cock hard and his heart light. He wanted more. He wanted all of her.
Her stays came loose, and he pulled them free of her body quickly, followed by her chemise. With her gloriously naked, he needed to pull away so he could see and appreciate the full beauty of the fair Rosalind. Breaking their kiss, he stepped back and inhaled sharply, ignoring the spike of pain in his side. She was everything he’d imagined and more. Soft curves, lush yet compact. High, pert breasts that begged to be attended to. To be sucked.
He sat on the edge of the bed and let one corner of his lips tip up. “Help me with my shirt again.”
Ros bit her lip as though she considered stopping things, but they’d gone too far to stop now. He knew it. She knew it. But, he gave her a moment to reach such a conclusion on her own. Then with a nod, she stepped over to him and, just as before, grabbed the hem of his shirt and guided it over his head and off his arms. He decided it might be the last time he bothered with a shirt for a few days.
Then she was hovering over him, her breasts at the perfect height for his earlier intentions. “Come here.”
Placing his hands on her lush hips, he guided her between his legs to stand where he wanted her. The tips of her breasts beaded, hardened in anticipation, and made him dizzy with need. He leaned forward and captured one point, gently rolling it over his tongue as he savored the elongated nub.
Breasts came in all shapes and sizes, and among men, there were many philosophies on what constituted perfection. Some focused on whether a breast could fill a champagne glass; others found an overflowing handful just right. And still, others focused on the size of the areolas, preferring larger or smaller. But for him, it always came down to the nipples. He liked a set of nipples that were about the size of a woman’s little finger at the tip and just long enough to latch on to with his lips or teeth. He’d heard one soldier refer to them as bullet sized. And Ros had the loveliest set he’d ever been privileged to see.
“Mmmm…” he reveled in the firmness of the nub. The feel of it rolling over his tongue and the way her breathing shifted from soft and even to breathy and choppy. Then he switched to her other breast and repeated his attentions. Her fingers threaded through his hair until her hands cupped his skull in a demanding grip that prodded him for more.
The tip of his cock leaked pre-come, dampening his skin and his underclothes. He’d never felt such a strong desire for a woman as he did for Ros, and he’d fervently hoped that having tasted her, his need would ebb as it had always done in the past. Though, if he was honest with himself, he had his doubts that such a pattern would hold true. Releasing her breast, he eased her back from the edge of the bed. “You are an enchantress with your deceptively lush curves packed into what feels like such a delicate package.”
“Come, Flint, we’ve no need for pretty words. I have every intention of laying with you.” Her cheeks remained flushed as she stood there proudly, almost challengingly.
He rose up and placed a finger under her chin. The pulse at her throat fluttered wildly under his scrutiny. “A beautiful woman should always be treated to pretty words whether she chooses to lay with a man or not.” Something fierce and protective jolted through him at the notion she had been given short shrift when it came to compliments.
A shadow flitted through her verdant green eyes. Had he not been watching her so intently, he no doubt would have missed the darkness as it was replaced by a look of pure desire. With her glittering gaze locked on him, she stood there waiting for his direction. Something warm wrapped around his heart as he rose from the bed and traded places with her. “Lie back, R
os.”
She bit her bottom lip, yet easily complied with his direction. Once she was settled, he placed a hand on each knee and pressed her legs open wide. Her breath hitched, making his cock throb with need, but he refused to rush through this first time with her. He was determined to savor every moment, engrave every image on his brain since he doubted he would have another opportunity to be with her again. He shouldn’t be with her again inasmuch as he knew he couldn’t offer her more than a fleeting intimacy that could not last.
Pushing aside the unwelcome truth, he focused on the moment, which meant concentrating on bringing her to a shattering, toe-curling orgasm. Kneeling, he wedged his shoulders between her legs and leaned in. The lightly sweet scent of her desire drew him in, made his mouth water with the need to lick her quim. But her hands had fisted the coverlet as her body stiffened. Had her husband never tasted her? He couldn’t imagine having such a woman in his bed and not doing so. And with that, he leaned in and put action to thoughts.
The soft pink folds of her pussy were slick with the evidence of her need for him, a heady reality that pushed the bounds of his limited self-control. He slipped his tongue along her slit, savoring the burst of salty sweetness.
A soft gasp of surprise escaped her as he drove deeper, seeking out her entrance. She wiggled her hips a bit, either in encouragement or an escape attempt. He wasn’t sure which, and he didn’t care as he looped his arms under her thighs and used his hands to pin her to the bed. Then he dragged his tongue over her pussy from her entry, across her sensitive tissue, and around her swollen clit.
Slowly she gave in to the pleasure he delivered as he swept across her soaked folds over and over again. More and more. And then the sweetness of her climax exploded on his tongue as his name burst from her lips. With her hips flexing up to meet each lingering pass of his tongue, she shuddered beneath him. Desire pummeled his body as violently as the stocky brute had earlier that night. He could have spent hours worshipping between her thighs, but he knew he’d never last.
He eased up onto his elbows, absorbing the waves of pleasure-pain that shot through him, stealing his breath with each shift. After standing, he shed the last of his clothes before making his way around to settle on the bed with his back propped against the headboard. As his ability to breathe returned, he crooked his finger at a dazed Ros. “I suspect you are quite the horsewoman. Come and ride me.”
Chapter 4
Ros rolled over onto her belly as her pulse still pounded through her useless limbs. Archie had licked between her legs—once. But, comparing the two experiences was akin to suggesting that riding a pony on a lead was the equivalent to galloping across a field on the back of a full-blooded stallion. Her husband had never attempted to repeat the intimate act after his dismal failure to bring her any pleasure, let alone to orgasm. From there on, he’d kept to more staid territory in the bedroom.
Not Flint. With a gleam in his dark blue eyes, he leaned against the headboard and watched. When he wasn’t beaten up, his deep sapphire eyes and dark hair stole her breath. She let her gaze linger over his muscle packed body as he patiently waited for her. Need bubbled up from deep within her once more as she found the ability to sit up and answer his summons.
“I was a horse-mad child. My father caught me sleeping in the mews with my pony on more than one occasion.” She smiled and crept across the mattress to where he sat.
Flint grinned, a breath-taking display. “I can imagine your mother’s horror at that discovery.”
She huffed a laugh. “Oh, no. She never learned the truth. My father worked very hard to keep my love of horseflesh from her. It would have, no doubt, been an insult to her delicate sensibilities. But enough about my childhood. I believe you were questioning my seat.”
“Not questioning. Merely requesting a demonstration.”
Ros knelt beside him on the mattress and stared at his swollen reddish-purple cock. She couldn’t cease imagining what it would be like to wrap her lips around the rigid flesh and swallow him. Her cunny throbbed with excitement and desire as she leaned over and took hold of his shaft. Darting her tongue out, she swirled around the mushroom-shaped head.
Flint groaned, and she could feel the sound vibrating through him as his salty taste teased her. Needing more, she opened her mouth wide and took the whole of his tip in her mouth. His cock twitched in her grasp as he mumbled some incoherent words above her.
Eager for more, she pushed down further on his length until he tapped the back of her throat.
“Bloody hell,” his low murmur encouraged her to keep going.
Determined to take as much as she could, she retreated a bit and then returned to take more. She pushed down until he popped into her upper throat. The burn caught her off guard, but not as much as having him pull her off his shaft with a barked, “No more!”
Still a little dazed from her orgasm and the new pulsing need that already thrummed through her limbs, she didn’t understand what had happened. “Oh! Was I doing it wrong?”
A strangled noise erupted from Flint. “Anymore right, and I would have spilled down that pretty little throat of yours.”
“Would that be an issue?” Confusion had her brows creasing as she tried to follow the man’s objection.
He shook his head. “Only if you wanted to actually have me sink deep inside you. A man does not recover so easily as a woman.”
“I see. My husband and I only came together once a night. I did not realize that was because he could not do it again.” Her cheeks heated.
Flint sighed. “Oh, we can do it more than once a night, something I shall prove to you later. But we do require some recovery time between bouts of intimacy, and I am in desperate need of having you sink down on my cock.”
She bit her lip, need warring with her reserved upbringing. “I want that, as well. Another time, I shall endeavor to pleasure you thoroughly with my mouth.” Impossibly, her cheeks grew hotter still. “I was enjoying it, and I have read that men do appreciate that form of gratification.”
“We do. But not now. Come and mount me, fair Rosalind. I have need of you.” He held out his hand as though he was a knight of old aiding a damsel.
With a nod of agreement, she swung up and over him so that her thighs stretched across his lap, and her calves lay parallel to his thighs. Hovering over his erect shaft, she reached down to take ahold of him and press his head to her opening. But he removed her hand with an unexpected gentleness.
“Let me.” Then he aligned his tip to her opening and placed a hand on her hip to guide her down. “Ease over me, nice and slow. I fear I might shoot off before I can fully fill your sweet pussy.”
She clenched at his dirty words, shocked at how they affected her. He groaned again as she continued to slide down over him. Her channel stretched wide to accommodate him until the stretching morphed into a light burning. She was no virgin, but it had been years since she’d lain with a man, not to mention Archie had not been so well endowed as Flint. Once she fully sank down on him, she thought she might explode, she felt so full.
Needing to touch him, she reached up and placed her hands on his chest and then rose to slide up his length. The fullness receded until just the tip remained inside her, then she reversed course. As she sank back down, bliss coursed through her veins. The intensity of it all overwhelmed her and made her feel as though she verged on flying apart.
Deep within her body, or perhaps it was her soul, something was pulled taut. Having him inside her, his flesh beneath her fingertips, and his masculine scent surrounding her, was like nothing she had expected. A sense of fullness, the heat of a man, the strength of him, and even the pleasure he could bring were all things she had considered. But the closeness, the soul-stirring intimacy, something bordering on…love? No, she hadn’t anticipated that.
Digging her nails into his chest, she moved to lift up again, but Flint groaned and grabbed her hands. Wasting no time, he pulled them behind her back and gripped both wrists with one hand. “I
’m afraid I can’t have you touching me right now. I won’t last.”
His words surprised her, but with the way he had her arms pulled behind her back, her breasts were thrust up and forward. He grinned wickedly as he leaned forward and captured one hard tip in his mouth. As he sucked and pulled on the distended nub, she felt every tug first in her breast and then in her pussy. The bliss made her light-headed, but also in need of more. As he continued to lave her breasts, she began to ride him. Up and down, she slid on his shaft, relishing the stretch and burn of his intrusion. With each downward plunge, the ecstasy swelled until it coalesced into the beginning of another orgasm. Desperate for the coming onslaught, she rode him harder, stopping to grind her clit into his pelvic bone as he continued to suck on one of her nipples.
And then as she was about to tip over the edge, he slapped her ass and let go of her pebbled tip. “Come for me.”
When he latched back on to her other nipple, she exploded around his cock. “Yes! Flint,” her cry rang out and mingled with his own cries of pleasure as he joined her.
The climax that slammed into her shattered her consciousness into a million little pieces. It was as if her soul had been pulled free from its moorings. Floating somewhere above their physical embodiment, crest after crest of satisfaction swamped her. And even as she returned to herself, the waves of pleasure continued to roll through her leaving her spent.
His Not-So-Sweet Marchioness: A Steamy Victorian Romance Page 3