Page 58 of This Earl of Mine

She squirmed a little at how tellingly close to the truth that was. He lifted the chain over her head, careful not to let it tangle in her hair. She thought he’d put it aside, but instead, he rolled the ring between thumb and forefinger, then trailed the warm metal down the slope of her breast. She sucked in a gasp as he placed it over her nipple, encircling the tight peak within the golden hoop.

His lips quirked in amusement. “A courtly lover wouldneverdothis.” He bent and placed his lips over the ring; cool metal, hot mouth, and her body went up inflames. His tongue pushed through the central hole, and desire speared through her like a scalding tide.

“Benedict!”

Her skin flashed hot, then cold. She threaded her fingers through his thick hair, pulling him closer as he let the band drop away and took even more of her into his mouth. He licked and sucked and bit. Her eyes widened. Oh, God.

“You taste so good.”

The vibration of his low groan rippled through her body. She closed her eyes, drowning in sensation. He shifted, pressing his nose and forehead to the soft skin of her stomach, breathing her in, and she fell back against the covers. She twisted, trying to urge him lower, to put his hands between her legs where he’d been before. Now that she knew what he could give her, she wanted it with a shocking, blinding intensity. She wanted that glittering peak again.

But Benedict seemed in no hurry to oblige. In fact, he drew back again, and she bit back a moan of frustration. He lifted first one foot, then the other, and rid her of her shoes; they hit the rug in a succession of quiet thuds. Then he slid his hand up her shin until he reached the ribbon tie of her garter. With the slightest pressure, he urged her to bend her knee and open her body to him.

Georgie shivered, even as her skin flushed with embarrassment. A small lamp had been left burning in the room, and when she complied, she knew she was completely open to his gaze. He hadn’t been able to see her in the submarine; she’d been shielded by her skirts and the darkness. Now, he could see everything, demand everything. No modesty. Complete surrender.

He was still completely clothed. Suddenly shy, she slid her hand down and tried to cover herself, but he kissed the sensitive skin on the inside of her knee.

“Don’t hide from me, Georgie. Let me see you.”

He slid his hands higher, up to her thighs, and pressed a kiss there too. Her stomach tensed in anticipation, but he simply looked at her, and the heat in his gaze somehow transferred itself to her skin. She burned. He licked his lips, his gaze between her legs. “Now this? This is worthy of a stanza or two.” His fingers crept higher, and she fought the urge to beg. “I can see how a man might be inspired to write a sonnet about this.” His expression turned wicked. “Of course, anticipation is sometimes the best part. Will you be hot? Wet?”

His fingers found her, a slow caress that circled with agonizing leisure.

Oh, yes.

“What will you taste like, I wonder?” he murmured dreamily, and she frowned as her slow brain struggled to made sense of the words.Taste?

His breath warmed her skin a moment before his mouth joined his fingers.

Oh, God.

Pleasure hit her like a lightning strike, and she almost bowed off the bed. It was agony. It was sublime. He licked her deeply, penetrating her, drinking her in. Georgie writhed and bucked, but he steadied her with a hand on her hip, urging her to accept his glorious ministrations. He lifted his head, and his cheeks were flushed. “Sugar and spice and all things nice,” he murmured. “That’s what Mrs. Wylde tastes of.”

He bent again, and she tightened her knees around his shoulders as he used his tongue in a wicked counterpoint to his nimble fingers. Heat built, and tension, and she clutched his hair, trying to hold him closer.

Yes. So close. More.

Just when she thought she could take no more, a rush of cool air hit her. She almost screamed in protest. Benedict knelt between her legs, his chest heaving, his jaw taut with strain. “Not without me,” he panted, stripping off his shirt in a blur of frantic movement. “Not this time.”

He kicked off his breeches, and she had the briefest glimpse of his body, a vast expanse of smooth, muscled skin, and then he was over her, full length, and all she could feel was heat, the incredible sensation of skin on skin.

“I need to be inside you.”

His chest pressed against her, abrading the points of her nipples. His thighs bracketed hers, all solid muscle and tickly hair. The hard length of him nudged her slick folds, and she bucked against him, desperate for themorehe’d promised.

More and more and more.

“Show me,” she panted, curling up for a kiss. She tasted herself on his tongue, a musky, earthy scent that enflamed her further, and he dropped to his forearms, bracketed her face with his hands, and kissed her as if it was the last time he’d ever have the chance. As if his whole soul belonged to her.

She writhed against him in unbearable anticipation. He rocked his hips and entered her just a fraction, a burning, stretching ache that made her tense at the unfamiliar intrusion. He was larger than his fingers. He pressed again, inching deeper, and Georgie tilted her hips to ease the ache. He stilled, his chest heaving, and rested his forehead against hers. “Slow,” he panted raggedly. “Don’t want to hurt you. God.”

Georgie caught his face and kissed his jaw, her heart swelling with the care he was taking with her. “It’s all right,” she whispered. “Do it.”

He gave a deep groan and pushed his full length into her, one deep thrust, and Georgie cried out. The momentarydiscomfort quickly gave way to an astonishing feeling of fullness, of completion. With a harsh breath, he withdrew almost completely and seated himself again, and this time the slipperiness of her body eased the way, and he slid in with a delicious friction that made her entire body jerk in response. Her vision blurred.

“Touch me,” he rasped, and she realized her arms had fallen to the bedcovers. Suddenly greedy, she ran her fingers over his shoulders, glorying in the muscles in his arms, the smooth contours of his back. He was tall and elegantly formed, all long, fluid lines, and she could feel the tremors in him, the taut control as he struggled to restrain himself.

She didn’t want restraint. She wanted abandon. She arched her back, urging him on, and he groaned deep in his throat, an animal sound of pure pleasure. And then he began to move within her. He slid his hand under her bottom and lifted her hips, and the change of angle sparked a familiar curl of pleasure. She dug her heels into the mattress and reached for it, jerking in awkward counterpoint to his thrusts until she found the rhythm, and suddenly they were moving together in perfect synchronicity. He caught her thigh and urged her leg around his hip, and she was climbing higher, higher toward that glorious point of light.

---