Page 63 of The Seduction of Lord Sin
On a groan, he lifted her and turned with her in his arms to face the bed. He let her down, sliding her body down his, his hands cupping her bottom, pressing her to him, molding her softness against his erection while his tongue plundered her mouth, leaving her a mass of aching need. Heat bloomed and the fire took hold—she wanted more.
This time, she wanted it all.
She reluctantly eased back from his kiss. “I want to see you. You have the most magnificent body, if I recall,” she added breathlessly.
With eager hands, she pushed his jacket wide, trapping his arms. With a curse, he let her go, stepped back, wrenched off his jacket, and flung it aside.
Her eyes widened at the violence behind the movement. He stilled. “I’d never hurt you. You know that?”
In answer, she stepped back into his embrace, her lips brazenly seeking his, her hand covering his heart. She knew the man he was. Gentle, giving, kind—loving. Loving was why she found him so attractive, why he and only he would do for her.
That revelation was simply there, its truth resonant and clear. She loved Sin to the depths of her soul. He loved her back. His words and proposal here tonight proved it, for he would never do anything dishonorable. He would never knowingly ruin her. He knew by kissing her, by claiming her, he was locking his life to hers.
The astonishment of that fact almost overwhelmed her. She forgot all about Mrs. Mason, about the fact he had thought to marry another. All she saw, felt, and heard was he wanted her now—forever!
And she wanted him—forever!
Charlotte acted on that thought, yanking the halves of his waistcoat apart, stretching to slip it from his board shoulders. Impatiently he pulled his shirt over his head, and finally she had her hands on hot, rough skin. She ran her fingers over his chest and stomach, the muscles beneath rigid and locked. His chest was a wonder of rough hairs the color of coal. She leaned into him and licked. He tasted divine, addictive.
He once more plundered her mouth, his hands closing about, and then provocatively kneading the globes of her bottom. The long muscles framing his back flexed like steel beneath her wandering hands. She ran her fingers down his back, counting the ribs as she traced the muscles leading her down his sides and back to his waist, to caress the rippling bands across his abdomen. They flickered at each touch.
Gaining courage, her fingers quested lower. He sucked in a breath and held it as she lightly traced the prominent line of his erection. He stilled, his lips on hers, his tongue in her mouth, when she reached for the placard of his breeches. As she undid the flap, he groaned into her mouth. Thrilled at her newfound power, she hurriedly undid the rest and slid one hand inside the opened flap, and found the rigid length of him. He was hot, with skin so very soft and smooth...
He was under her spell, entirely focused on her hand and what she was doing. Her fingers explored freely, learning the size and shape of him. He was solid, larger than she had imagined. He more than filled her hand. Growing bolder, she closed her fingers around him, circling him, and this time his groan was accompanied by a shudder.
She knew she was playing with fire, but she took her time fondling his sac, wonder blooming as it tightened in her hand. She could feel the surge of heated passion rising through him, provoked by her play, and it rose in her body in kind. She throbbed and grew damp between her thighs.
His mouth finally left hers, but he didn’t stop her games. He truly was a saint because he let her play. She could see the tension in his neck, the cords tight as a bow.
* * *
Sin clenched his jaw and endured her touch when all he wanted was to throw her on the bed and sink into the heaven he knew he’d find there. He wanted to bury himself so deep and let her wrap those gazelle-like legs around him.
Though she was innocent, her touch was pure heaven, her instincts sound. He watched the wonderment in her smile and another surge of heat, of pure unadulterated desire, rose, hardening and lengthening the part of his anatomy that was currently the determined focus of her being. He didn’t know how much longer he could hold himself in check.
Not long, as it turned out. He made the mistake of looking down as she sent her thumb stroking over the aching head of his shaft and found a latent drop. She looked deep into his eyes, brought her thumb to her lips, and tasted murmuring her approval.
Control slipped. He caught his breath, nudged her face up and found her lips again, drawing her into a drugging kiss, and ruthlessly, deliberately, took over. He didn’t hold back. He seized and devoured, claiming her mouth, her lips, with a promise of what else he’d claim this night.
He would dictate the pace. He impatiently drew her hand away and efficiently divested himself of the rest of his clothes.
* * *
He looked magnificent. A Greek God come to life. She took in the sight, drank in the glory. How lucky was she to have this man in her bed—for the rest of her life!
He drew her close, then closer, until there was not even air between them. Silken skin caressing his chest, his erection cradled in her softness, while he plundered her mouth, holding her, and her senses, captive.
Charlotte tried to move even closer. She wanted him more than she’d wanted anything in her life. Far from resisting, she sank into his arms, gave herself up to his commanding kiss, surrendered and waited, nerves tight with anticipation, for him to make her his.
Without breaking their kiss, he lifted her and climbed onto the bed. The sheer curtains closed behind him, enveloping them in their own world.
They were on their knees facing each other and she let out a cry of disappointment when his lips left hers, only to moan in relief as his mouth found one tight, furled nipple.
His hot mouth suckled and savored. Her head fell back; her gasp whispered through the room. He feasted like a starving man. He laved her breasts, suckled, nipped—sending arrows of heat to her core. His hot mouth gave such pleasure she prayed he never stopped. Her hands closed on his skull, holding him to her; she was never letting go. His mouth was heaven on her flesh.
She rode the waves of delight he evoked. His hands roamed her curves while his mouth devoured her breasts. A wild wantonness erupted within and she reached for him. She gloried in the feel of his hard body, the evidence of his desire never more real. Charlotte stroked his cock once, and he growled deep in his chest. He urged her back on the bed and she went willingly. Her skin was flaming, her body melting, all her senses heightened and in scattered disarray. He followed her down, one knee rising and pushing between hers, parting her thighs, exposing the musky scent of her arousal to the room.
She was momentarily embarrassed when his muscled thigh, raspy with masculine hair, rode against her dampness, but his groan of admiration saw her glory in wanton excitement. He deliberately shifted, pressing against the most sensitive spot, knowingly winding her tight... Her breath tangled in her throat.
