Page 47 of A Whisper of Desire
God, no.He shook his head and silently begged her to continue.
Her lips were warm on his flesh. His skin burned, heat pouring over every inch of his body, seared by the erotic touch of her mouth as she softly ran her tongue around the swollen head, the sensitive ridge below…His hips pushed forward, encouraging her, needing her, wanting her, to take him into her mouth.This is torture…
He felt her hot breath at his groin, and against his better judgment his eyes flew open. He had to watch. He opened his eyes just as her lips closed around his distended length and he could feel the muscles of his neck tighten as he fought for control. She was intuitive, her lips and tongue exploring his length, tasting the slick contours as she took him fully in her mouth.
He was going to come far too soon. Desperately he tried to keep his mind divorced from the wicked sensations her hot mouth conjured.
Her skills were wholly intuitive and she needed no instruction. If she were any more expert he’d die from pleasure.
Maitland shuddered. Marisa lips gripped him firmly, and he groaned at her exquisite ministrations. Her mouth was a firebrand, her teeth adding a bite of pain to the pleasure. He flinched and she was about to stop. “Don’t stop,” he cried. He felt her smile.
Involuntarily, his hands rose to wrap in her thick ebony tresses. He had lost the battle to resist the craving within, as soon as her mouth engulfed him in her heat. He reveled in the feel of her moist lips sliding down his aching shaft and he couldn’t stop his hips from moving. He strained against her mouth, even as his mind battled to resist the sensual need she evoked. He shouldn’t love this so much!
Why hadn’t he married a docile creature, a woman too prim and proper to ever think of going down on her knees and taking him in her mouth…Like a bird spying the open cage door, his plan to keep her at arm’s length in the boudoir had flown on the wind.
With the arrogance of a man who was never questioned, he had thought he’d control her like he controlled everything and everyone in his life. From the outset, she’d turned his well-intentioned plan on its head. She took, and demanded, his attention, and not just in his bed. She wanted to be an integral part of his life.
The question that scared him witless was if he let her glimpse the beast he kept caged, would she turn from him? Would she be as disgusted? He couldn’t bear to see her look at him as if he were an animal.
To prove his point, an animalistic growl issued from between his clenched teeth as his hands wound tightly in her hair. His hunger poured in hot waves through his body.
Sweet hell, he’d known when he kissed her in the ballroom that fateful night that he needed to stay away from her. The Libertine Scholars’ villainess had put paid to that. Right now he’d never been so grateful, or terrified, at having married her.
The reason he’d stayed out of her bed was self-preservation. He had few defenses against her. He’d realized that the first time he’d made love to her.
Maitland squeezed his eyes shut. The pleasure was too overwhelming. He was shaking and he thrust his hips, sending himself deeper into the hotness of her mouth.
He felt her shudder with pleasure herself. She looked up at him with passion-hazed eyes, her arousal sending his flying toward the heavens, shredding the last grip on his control.
He tried to stop, tried to push her from him, but her nails dug into his thighs as she moved her mouth on him with renewed urgency.
His balls tightened, drawing up, ready to explode. Maitland shuddered, needing release more than he needed air. He tried to pull away, tried to be a gentleman, but it was too late. On a deep, dark groan, he thrust urgently and spilled his seed down her throat. She continued to suck until his spasm eased and she’d drained him dry.
So powerful was the euphoria that he stumbled to the bed and fell back, with his heart pounding deep within his chest.
He heard her licking her lips and felt her crawl up his body to lie snuggled beside him.
“I’d say that later tonight, I’ll have no problem giving a very believable performance.” Marisa’s voice was filled with satisfaction.
He couldn’t even think to form a reply. All that filled his head was want and need. He wanted her beneath him. He wanted to pleasure her until she screamed his name over and over. She was like a drug and he wanted more.
He should be petrified of that thought, but right now, he couldn’t give a damn. He simply rolled her under him and pressed himself between her welcoming thighs.
Chapter 13
The entry into the club went smoothly once they got past the two huge men guarding the front door. Maitland and Marisa were ushered upstairs to be “interviewed,” which was the term used, but it felt more like an interrogation.
Angelo was not in residence, and his second-in-command, Francis, seemed suspicious of Maitland’s sudden appearance. His Grace was too well known to pretend he was anyone else. As long as it wasn’t Marisa receiving Francis’s penetrating attention, then they might just pull this off.
They barely gave her a second look, so her disguise appeared to be adequate.
“What brings Your Grace to our doors?” Francis asked with knowing spite in his voice.
“Is this how you greet all your guests?” Maitland responded with ducal disdain. “I find your question distasteful. I thought this club prided itself on discretion.”
Francis’s sneer wasn’t only in his voice now. It was written all over his face. “There are usually only two reasons why a man comes to this club. I need to ensure you are not here to gain advantage over other members. You’d be surprised how many men who are in need of funds try to gain entrance.”
Maitland’s indignation was not feigned. “I assure you, I have no need for funds.”
