Page 65 of Loving a Beast of a Marquess
But he cradled her to him and kissed her as though her inexperience didn’t matter, and although her hands shook as they slid over his shoulders and arms, exploring every scrap of skin on display, he didn’t seem to mind.
“Tell me what to do,” she said, finally trailing her fingers over the bulge in his breeches.
“You are a woman unlike any other,” he said though his words were a little breathless as she stroked again. She liked that she could make him do that; she loved the way he responded to her. “You know most would lie on their back on the bed and allow me to take them as I would.”
“Would you prefer—”
He caught her wrist. “Never.”
She watched as he removed the remainder of his clothes until he stood before her as naked as she was. The burns were worse on his thighs, but no amount of burns could detract from what lay between his legs. It was even larger than she remembered, standing to attention.
She dragged her eyes from it to his eyes and the way he watched her cautiously. “What should I do now?” she asked.
He laughed, and the strange tension of the moment was broken. He advanced, crawling on the bed toward her with an intention that sent shivers of anticipation through her. To her surprise, however, he lay on his back beside her. “You are doing admirably,” he said, motioning to the rod that twitched when she looked down at it. “If you wish to do something more, you may take it in your hands.”
She slid a hand down his chest, feeling the muscles shift and tighten under her fingers as she crept past the V at the base of his stomach to finally take hold of the rod that awaited her. Zachary sucked in a breath as she wrapped her fingers around it. It was hot and silky under her touch.
“That’s right,” he said, slightly hoarse. “Not too tight.” As though he couldn’t help himself, he bucked his hips into her hand, and the skin moved. Finally understanding what she ought to do, she moved her hand, and his gasp turned into a groan. “Yes,” he said, kissing her. “Just like that.”
As she slid her hand up and down his length, his fingers found the apex of her legs once more, and he slid a finger inside. At the sensation, she almost stopped, and he chuckled darkly.
“Perhaps that might be for the best,” he said. “We ought to save something for the final act.”
Evangeline had forgotten how to breathe. All that existed was Zachary and his clever, clever fingers.
“What is the final act?” she gasped, returning her attention to him and more importantly, what her hand was—or had recently beennot—doing. “There’s more than this?”
His laugh was soft, even as his body stiffened at her renewed caresses. “This is merely the beginning.”
She hardly knew what more therecouldbe, but after he slipped a second finger inside her, she stopped questioning. He was urging on another of those explosions, and she wanted it. She wantedhimwith his ragged breath and the eyes so dark with pleasure and desire that she could drown in him. Never had she craved his mouth so, knowing what it could do to her.
“All right, enough.” He removed her hand from him and, regrettably, also removed his from her. “Do you trust me, Evangeline?”
Implicitly. “You know I do.”
“Then climb on top of me.” With both hands on her hips, he guided her, so she was sitting on him, legs either side of his waist, his length lying underneath her. If she dropped down, she could rub herself against him, and she experimented doing just that, teasing herself toward her climax.
“Good God,” he managed, tightening his grip on her to still her movements. “Are you determined to undo me?” At her questioning glance, he half-smiled and shook his head. “No,” he answered himself. “You have no idea what you are doing. Rise up, my sweet. There is more to this yet.”
Evangeline followed his guidance and raised herself off him. He guided himself to her entrance and finally she understood precisely what was expected of her.
“Now sit,” he instructed. “Gently now. You will have more control like this.”
With his hands steadying her, sliding down on him didn’t seem as though it was too difficult. He stretched her, almost enough to be painful, but the pleasure of it replaced any potential pain.
Until that was, she reached an obstruction.
“Zachary, I don’t know…”
His face was tight from strain. Strain, she realized, from having been utterly unmoving under her. “This part will hurt,” he said. “Are you ready?” At her nod, he pushed the final inch or two inside her, and the sharp stab of pain made her gasp. She remained motionless for a moment, letting the pain fade before looking down at him. His brows were caught in concern.
For her.
He was concerned about her.
Even though he had told her he loved her so many times, the way he reached out and brushed her cheek made her heart squeeze.
“You are beautiful,” he told her. “Are you ready?”
