Page 20 of A Whisper of Desire
The notion disturbed her. She’d known he rarely showed emotion, but in the bedroom? Surely he felt secure enough to let go? She didn’t like to think Maitland hid himself from her. They could hardly build a life together if she never got to know or understand him.
Soon any thought of understanding anything was driven out by the shock of Maitland’s tongue sweeping through her folds. Her legs instantly tried to close, but his massive shoulders held her open to him.
His tongue was gentle one minute and then ruthless the next. She was kept on edge, never knowing what to expect. A soft cry fell from her lips when he touched a certain spot. Another stroke. He paused and her whole body tensed in anticipation. This time he gently sucked that special spot and her eyes rolled into her head under her closed lids.
Sensations so exquisite bombarded her to the point she almost forgot to breathe.
Just when she thought nothing could be better, she felt a finger enter her and it was too much. She moaned into the room. Heat grew with each touch from his magic tongue and fingers!
To her embarrassment, her hips moved, trying to press closer, trying to ease the ache inside. His clever tongue hit the spot again and her whole body lifted off the bed.
“Mait…land…” she cried.
His chuckle sent more waves of pleasure washing over her, the sensations too intense, too overwhelming, so she almost wanted him to stop.
“Stop thinking and just enjoy,” he commanded, and then he nibbled on that magic spot. He gave a painful little bite that saw her straining once again. As her back arched he soothed her with his lapping tongue while a second finger joined the first, stretching her, readying her. She remembered how big Maitland had looked as he stroked himself and she wondered how he would ever fit.
His thumb found her hardened nub and pressed. Soon she was panting, her whole being focused on what he was doing to her. The combination of lapping tongue and his fingers deep inside her made stars appear under her tightly closed eyelids.
Now she understood how hard it was to lose control in front of another. You had to give up a part of yourself.
She knew the pleasure she’d receive would be worth it when Maitland allowed her to reach the pinnacle. He held her on the edge of the chasm. One more lick or suck in the right place, and she’d fly. After watching Arend, she’d pleasured herself in her room, alone, with not a soul around to watch her. But this time she had an audience, a man who liked to control everything, and suddenly the idea of letting him control her secret moments scared her.
“Let go, Marisa,” he urged. “I want to see you overcome with pleasure.”
His whole mouth suckling her, devouring her, followed his words. She felt shudders go through him where his hands gripped her thighs, spreading them wider.
Just when she thought she couldn’t take any more, his fingers left her, only to be replaced by his tongue. He used his fingers on her hard little nub, catching it between his fingers and pinching while his tongue entered her over and over again.
She wanted the sweet release and she could feel it building. Her body shook with each thrust of his tongue and soon she’d bare her soul to this man, and she was glad to. He was her husband, her life partner. He’d be the father of her children.
Her body grew tight, her hands gripped the sheets, and her mind closed to everything but what his mouth and hands were doing to her.
The climax hit with such force it knocked the breath out of her. She flew up into the clouds and her world came apart in an explosion of color and stars.
Her body convulsed out of control and her eyes flew open to see Maitland watching her come undone with possessive pride in his eyes.
For a brief second she wondered what he saw.
—
Fate had selected his wife well. Pride invaded his chest and he felt his heart swell. She gave of herself unabashed, relishing in her passion, not embarrassed to show him her desires.
He was hard and aching all over again; her climax, hearing her climax, knowing he brought her to earth-shattering release, aroused him beyond measure.
He lifted himself on his elbows and admired his work. He loved how wet and glistening, swollen from his mouth, she was, so ready for him to make her his wife.
He rose above her on all fours. Her legs stayed spread, her limbs boneless, but a smile as saucy as any courtesan’s settled upon her lips. She looked utterly satisfied and so beautiful in the dim lighting of the room.
“Let’s do that again,” she whispered.
Chapter 6
He crawled up the bed and lay beside her, his hand trailing over her damp skin. “I’m more than happy to oblige, my duchess.”
Marisa turned toward him and the enormity of the night hit him deep within his chest. Tonight was not simply about sex with a beautiful woman. Soon he would make her his and their lives would be entwined forever.
He’d thought he could keep her at arm’s distance. They would lead independent lives yet share only the occasional intimacies. Something painful akin to a hand gripping his bollocks caught him off guard. He wasn’t sure how to keep his life as it had been—calm, contained, controlled—with a woman like Marisa. She was so much more than he’d expected, and this marriage of convenience was in danger of becoming more.
