She was a sinner tonight, willing and ready and his.
His finger teased her, working over her hungry flesh. And then he skimmed over her seam, finding her entrance and sliding inside. Deep. This time, her knees truly did buckle. He caught her against him, his finger still buried within her.
And then, his mouth was on hers. He kissed her hard. Punishing. Voraciously. Deliciously. His tongue slid inside to the rhythm of his strokes, in and out. She whimpered into that kiss, need pulsing to life. She was trembling. On the edge. Desperate for his claiming.
He withdrew his finger and moved them across the study without breaking the kiss. Suddenly, she found herself sprawling into a chair. Sin was right there with her. He kissed down her throat, over her breasts and belly, and then sank to his knees between her legs.
She had a moment to realize he was still fully clothed while she was naked before he dipped his head and flicked his tongue over her pearl. Pure sensation rocketed through her. Callie forgot to care about her nudity. He licked her slowly, leisurely. Lightly.
“You taste so sweet,” he told her, his breath hot against her core.
His hands were on her inner thighs, caressing, spreading her wider. His tongue tortured her some more, until she moaned and shifted closer, seeking increased pressure. Still, he tormented her with soft flutters that made desire coil deep within her.
“Keep your eyes on me,” he commanded, before sucking on the tender bud of her sex.
How could she look away?
The sight of this beautiful man on his knees before her, his mouth on her most sensitive, intimate flesh, was unbearably erotic. She held his gaze, watching him pleasure her.
The most astonishing realization hit her, walloping her with the profundity of it.
Dear God, she could love him.
There was every possibility she was already falling in love with Sin.
Heaven help her.
He was in love with his wife’s cunny.
With the breathy little mewls she made when he licked her.
With the way she rocked against his face, practically begging him to fuck her with his tongue.
He had told himself that he was growing far too attached to her. That his fascination for her would wane. He had convinced himself to keep his distance this evening, needing some time to puzzle through what had happened between them earlier.
But all it had taken was the sight of her standing in his study, wearing that innocent-looking dressing gown with its endless line of buttons and frothy lace at her throat, her magnificent hair cascading down her back, and he had been helpless to resist her. She entranced him. Seduced him with a mere look.
And she was looking at him now. Watching him as he pleasured her. Her lips were swollen and parted, her breasts thrust forward like ripe offerings. She was pale and glorious and he had never wanted to bed a woman more in his life.
First, however, he would give her what she wanted. Sin ran his tongue down her folds, then licked into her. She jerked, quivering beneath him. She was already close. Good. He wanted her close. He wanted her mindless and wild and uncontrolled. He wanted her in a frenzy.
In and out, he slid, holding her dark gaze, delving into her hot wetness. Then, he returned to her pearl, sucking hard while he slid two fingers inside her channel. She was perfection, gripping his fingers, dragging him deep, so slick.
“I want you to come for me,” he whispered against her core. “Fly for me, darling.”
On a keening moan, she did as he asked, tightening on his fingers in a wave of spasms as he nibbled on her swollen clitoris. Her hands were in his hair, caressing. He waited until the last ripples of her pinnacle ended to slide his fingers from her and replace them with his tongue. Slowly, still holding her gaze, he lapped up all her cream. He inhaled her sweet, musky scent, savoring this connection.
Savoring her.
He could not get enough.
Still fucking her with his tongue, he switched positions, using his fingers to swirl over her pearl in hard, fast circles. He wanted her to come again. And again. And again. And just when neither of them could bear another second of waiting, he wanted to slam his cock inside her.
The thought made his ballocks tighten and his prick twitch, reminding him he was still fully clothed whilst she was beautifully nude. In his need to feast upon her, he had neglected to remove any of his own attire. That could be rectified soon enough. And hell, he was not even certain he cared. As long as he could get his cock inside her, that was all that mattered.
He moaned his satisfaction as her hips pumped against him, seeking. Her lips parted wider. Her breath was coming in sweet gasps as he pleasured her. Her wetness coated his tongue, his lips. He increased the pressure and firmed his tongue, sinking it as deep inside her as he could.
She came on a strangled cry, her body stiffening beneath his. Sin stayed with her as she shook against him, trembling with the power of her release. He waited until the last tremor rocked her, and then he stood.
Her ecstasy heightened his own need. Catching her around the waist, he pulled her gently to her feet, and then traded places with her, so that he was seated and she was standing, naked and sated, her face flushed with the aftereffects of her orgasm. There was no time to remove his bloody clothes. He had to have her.
Now.
He opened the fall of his trousers and freed his cock. “Turn around, princess.”
She did as he asked, further proof that she was far less stubborn when sated, giving him a view of her luscious backside. Her arse was perfection, her dark hair hanging down her back. He caught her hips in his hands, positioning her the way he wanted. “Now sit on me.”
“Sin,” she protested at last, breathless, “how will this work?”
“Trust me, darling.” Gently, he guided her down on him, gripping his cock with one hand and easing himself into her cunny. “Seat yourself.”
She did, settling herself in his lap and taking him all the way into her tight, slippery sheath. Her gasp matched his. She clenched on him as he caressed her hips, her back. He dragged a handful of her thick, silken locks back and settled his mouth on the patch of skin where her neck and shoulder met.
“What do I do now?” she asked on a moan as he cupped her breast, finding her hard nipple and working it.
“You move on me,” he told her. “Ride me. Take what you want.”
“Oh,” she said as she lifted herself, and then settled upon him once more.
The friction was pure bliss, as was the fit of her around him. He let his hand drop to between her legs, then strummed her pearl with his thumb. She began to move faster, with greater confidence, rising and then falling.
Sin’s fragile grip on his own control snapped. He moved with her, their bodies working together, thrusting deep, then withdrawing, then deep again. Her scorching heat made his ballocks go tight. He bit her shoulder, rocking, thrusting, fucking her.
Loving her.
Loving her?
No, not loving her.
He banished the unwelcome thought. Where the devil had it emerged from? He was delirious with the need to spend himself inside her, that was all. Too much blood had rushed to his engorged cock.
He increased the pressure on her pearl, and she came, tightening on his cock with so much force, he could no longer keep from filling her with his seed. She ground herself on him as he spent with a hoarse cry, pumping into her.
Darkness edged his vision for a brief moment from the ferocity of his release. He collapsed against her back, holding her close, his breaths leaving him in ragged bursts. He kissed her neck, her ear, paying homage to her in every way he could.
Curse her, this obsession he had for his wife was not fading.
It was only growing stronger.
Chapter Nineteen
There is beauty in cruelty, dear reader. There is madness in each of us, waiting for the right moment. Will I kill again? Only time shall tell…
~from Confessions of a Sinful Earl
> “Tell me everything,” Jo announced the moment they had settled in for tea.
Callie had been a married woman for almost a month. Finally, she had ventured out for the first time, realizing that she could not forever remain trapped in her new home, alternating her time between mooning over her husband and overseeing the new domestics and redecorating.
So, she had emerged into the world once more, paying her best friend a call. Her marriage had thus far been surprisingly, startlingly happy. She had spent each night in Sin’s bed, learning his body in the same way he did hers. He had even selected a stool to keep at his bedside for her use. Of course, their lovemaking had not been limited to his chamber or the evening. He seemed to be on a mission to make love to her in each room of the townhome, at least once.
Her cheeks went hot. She could not very well tell Jo everything.
“What do you wish to know?” she evaded.
“You are flushing!” Jo observed. “You look ridiculously happy, dearest. The earl is not mistreating you, I take it?”
“Quite the opposite,” she admitted.
“That is wonderful,” her friend exclaimed, grinning.
“Perhaps too wonderful,” Callie said on a rush.
All the emotions that had been building within her over the course of the last month were ready to be set free. All the longing, the fears, the desire, the need, the dread, the caring, heavens help her, the love…
Jo frowned at her. “What is the matter, Callie? I would think the earl treating you well would be a source of relief for you. Not long ago, he was your bitter enemy. Do you trust him now?”
“I do.” Callie sighed, searching for the proper words to convey the confusing mix of feelings inhabiting her. “That is the problem. I trust him implicitly. I have realized I was desperately wrong to ever think him capable of hurting another. I have learned so much about him in the last month. He dotes over his hard-of-hearing, near-sighted butler. His mother’s mind is frail, but instead of sending her away, he has been looking after her, seeing to her care even when he had to sell off nearly all the pictures and household possessions of value to pay his debts. Everything I have seen of him thus far is surprisingly noble and good.”
Jo pressed a hand to her heart. “The butler is hard of hearing? And there is a mad mother-in-law? Please tell me she is not hiding in the attics.”
Callie laughed weakly. Leave it to her friend to find some lightness in the moment. “She is ensconced in a regular chamber, and she is being looked after by a nursemaid. We have hired a replacement because Sin did not trust the previous woman in his employ, but she was all he had been able to afford. When I think of how I set out to ruin him, I feel sick.”
“You were hurting, Callie. Your brother’s death was unusual, and Lady Sinclair passing away on the same night was suspicious. I do not blame you for wondering and for wanting to do everything in your power to find the truth.” Jo’s voice was sympathetic.
Callie did not think she deserved her friend’s sympathy or understanding.
“But was I trying to find the truth, or was I only seeing what I wanted to see and believing what I wanted to believe, regardless of who I hurt in the process?” Sadness cut through her. How wrong she had been.
How selfish.
How careless.
She had ruined a good man. A man who was far better than she had ever imagined. A man whose bed she slept in each night, who touched and kissed her with such tenderness that it made her ache just to think of it now, when he was nowhere in sight.
“You have a good heart, Callie,” Jo said. “It looked damning. There is no denying that. And his reputation was blackened before you even wrote Confessions of a Sinful Earl.”
He had indeed achieved a reputation for running with a fast set. For seducing legions of women. For being wicked. For doing whatever he wished and not giving a damn about the repercussions.
But it was increasingly difficult to reconcile the Sin she had heard about with the Sin she had come to know. The Duchess of Longleigh had told her Sin was a good man, and Callie had seen the evidence herself.
“I know all that, but he is nothing like what I expected him to be.” She sighed. “Oh, Jo. What if I am falling in love with him?”
There it was, her biggest fear. Because Sin himself had told her theirs was a marriage of convenience. He had told her he did not believe in love. His last wife had left scars upon his heart, that much was undeniable.
Jo’s brows rose. “In love? You think you are falling in love with the Earl of Sinclair?”
Callie gave a miserable nod. “I never expected to like him, let alone care for him. But there is something about him that makes me feel emotions I never felt before. Not even with Simon.”
The last admission came with a pang of accompanying guilt. She could not help but to feel she tarnished his memory by feeling such a depth of emotion for another man, and in such a short amount of time. A man who she had not long ago considered her enemy. A man she had been determined to destroy.
“Do you think he feels the same way?” Jo queried softly, giving voice to another of Callie’s fears.
“I hardly know.” Her voice trembled. “He has not been forthright with his emotions.”
“But he is otherwise attentive?” her friend pressed.
Quite attentive.
Deliciously so.
Her cheeks went hot all over again. She could not meet Jo’s inquisitive gaze. “Yes, I dare say he is.”
“Your cheeks are red as an apple,” Jo accused, chuckling. “Good heavens, I never thought to see the day Lady Calliope Manning was embarrassed over something.”
“Lady Sinclair now,” she reminded her friend.
And herself as well.
How strange it felt, rolling off her tongue. Stranger still, how right. A month ago, she never would have countenanced it. Now, she could not deny that marrying Sin had given her a sense of purpose for the first time since Simon and Alfred had died. Aside from her work for the Lady’s Suffrage Society, she had been adrift. Her life in Paris with Aunt Fanchette had been nothing but a lavish swirl of parties. Her life in London had not been much altered, aside from her devotion to her cause.
“You are the happiest I have seen you in as long as I can recall,” Jo said softly, cutting into Callie’s turbulent musings. “I do believe marriage suits you, my dear friend.”
“It does,” she agreed, the admission nevertheless laced with worry.
Her happiness had always been cut short by a death, an unexpected end. She hated to bask too much in the moment, or to allow herself to grow too complacent. Surely this contentedness, too, would be dashed upon the rocks like a ship caught in a maelstrom before too long.
“You do not sound pleased with the realization, however.”
Jo was ever observant and wise. Those were some of the traits that made her such a wonderful friend. That and her loyalty and sharp-as-a-blade wit.
“I am afraid,” she confided. “He has made it more than clear to me that he expects me to give him an heir, and after that time, we shall go our separate ways and lead our own lives. Part of me is convinced he is still in love with his ex-mistress. And his last marriage has left him wary. Apparently, it was quite a bitter affair on both sides. I do believe he loved her at some point.”
The notion of her husband’s heart having been broken by other women before her left Callie feeling both melancholy and possessive, all at once.
“Oh dear.” Jo’s expression was commiserating as she took a sip of her tea and then made a face. “Good heavens, the tea has grown cold. Here I am chattering on, asking you all these insufferably rude questions. Just tell me to stifle it, do. I know I am too inquisitive for my own good.”
That was one of the many curious facets of Lady Jo Danvers. By all appearances, she was a shy, quiet wallflower. It was only with those she knew and trusted that her true personality came to life. Meanwhile, Callie was the opposite. She was bold and boisterous and unapologetic. Mayha
p that was why she and Jo had connected as friends on such a deep level. They were each what the other was not. Together, they understood each other and flourished.
“Never mind the tea,” Callie said, feeling selfish for dominating the conversation with her own troubles and feelings. After all, she had meant to visit her friend, not to fret over the budding feelings bursting to life in her treacherous heart. Surely they could be tempered, no? “I came here to visit you, and that is all. I missed you, dear friend. Forgive me for being so serious and weighing down our visit with this nonsense. You must forget it all. I fear becoming a married woman has addled my wits. Let us speak of something else, anything else!”
“I missed you as well.” Jo grinned then. “You must tell me what the marriage bed is like, Callie. No one will tell me anything. I swear I shall die a spinster wallflower without ever having even been kissed.”
It astounded Callie to think her friend had never been swept into a darkened alcove by a handsome lord and kissed senseless. Jo was uniquely beautiful, sweet, smart, and wittier than anyone Callie knew. She could only suppose it was fear of Jo’s brother, the Earl of Ravenscroft, which kept suitors at bay. That and Jo’s own retiring nature whenever she found herself in large gatherings of people.
“You will not die a spinster wallflower, never having been kissed,” Callie denied. “I promise you that, Jo.”
Her friend sighed. “Sometimes, it feels as if I will. I have begun a list, you know, of all the things I want to experience in my life. I have grown quite tired of watching everyone I love go on with their lives while I remain here, the same as I ever was.”
Callie felt a pang of guilt all over again. “I have not gone on with my life, dear heart. You will forever be my dearest friend, and you know it. Time, marriages, titles, nothing matters. You are the sister I never had.”
“But you have a sister now,” Jo pointed out, quite correctly.
“Yes, but she cannot replace you,” Callie said soothingly, taking a sip of her own tea at last only to find that it was disgustingly tepid. “No one can replace you, Jo. I have Isabella, and I have you.”
Lady Ruthless (Notorious Ladies of London Book 1) Page 22