Page 23 of Buon Natale, My Wicked Rogue
With luck, more than once.
Finally, he was able to trail his hand up along her thigh, upwards until he reached her warm wetness.
“You’re so luscious, so wet. Do you know what it does to me? Do you know how the feel of your hot, wet cunny makes my cock ache? Do you have the least idea of how badly my cock aches to be inside this hot, wet cunny of yours?”
He leaned back for a moment and observed her spread-legged on this chaise longue in his hunting lodge. If only he’d thought to light the lamps, he’d be able to look at her there, but the firelight was slowly waning. All he could see was a maddening image of the dark brown hair on her mons and a shadowy, teasing glimpse of what he most wanted to see.
He cupped her mons and put his mouth over hers again. Then, with a gentle, slow finger, he parted her folds. She shivered and thrust her tongue against his. He slid his finger up and swept over her pearl, finding it already firm. He stroked her in slow circular motions until her hips danced, and she kissed him frantically.
He thrust a finger into her.
“Evan!” His name sounded so sweet in her breathless voice.
He pulled his finger out of her sheath, and she cried out a sound of protest. He pushed into her again, this time with two fingers. Her inner walls squeezed his fingers. “I adore your hot, wet, tight cunny,” he whispered against her mouth.
She moaned, and he kissed her again, deeply, hungrily, and kept working his fingers back and forth in her. He licked her lips with soft flicks.
“The things I am going to do to you with my tongue,” he promised her, then he broke away from her sweet mouth and trailed a rain of hungry kisses down her neck. “I am going to make you scream with pleasure, so much pleasure.”
What? What had he just said? He was going to do what with his tongue?
He was sucking and kissing his way down her neck, biting gently between every other kiss. The tickling sensation made her gasp and giggle. Her nipples ached; her body tingled all over. He was still thrusting his fingers in and out of her. She had never experienced such an all-over sensation. She had never tingled from head to foot like this. Her body seemed to anticipate each thrust of his fingers, her pelvis arching faster than she would have ever believed she could move her body, and what had been a pleasure was turning into the most exquisite aching agony.
But she didn’t want him to stop.
She couldn’t bear it if he stopped.
He brushed his thumb over her most sensitive place, the little nub that had grown so erect and throbbing. The tension inside her became unbearable and quickly centered on that tiny part of her.
Then everything exploded. Pleasure burst within her and spread through her whole body as her inner walls squeezed his fingers. She had never come so hard.
Oh Mamma Mia!
“Evan, Evan,” she cried out, and then she went limp, feeling the strong ticking inside her, the aftereffects of pleasure.
He was kissing her breasts. Gentle, soft touches of his lips that sent tingles through her whole body, even down to her toes. Gentle kisses like the brush of a butterfly’s wings made her nipples ache for friction. A teasing kind of torment that made her long for him to touch her more roughly.
She took her breasts in her hands and squeezed them, showing him that she was ready for more. More touch, moresensation. She heard herself pleading, words tumbling out, words she didn’t even know she could say. She could only hope that he had studied Italian deeply and not just from his schoolbooks.
“Angela...” He had practically growled her name. The vibrations from his chest radiated to her body, sending new shivering thrills through her. He took the torn edges of her gown and tore them even more.
She gasped.
He kept tearing the cloth. She lifted her hips until he was able to pull the two halves of the garment down her legs. Tearing her expensive nightdress. But she didn’t care.
He brushed the palms of his hands over her aching nipples. The slight roughness of his skin created the most delicious friction. Pleasure burst on the sensitive tips, and she cried out. “Yes, yes, yes, more!”
“Your breasts are so gorgeous. They are so perfect.” He rolled them between his thumbs and forefingers.
Pleasure rendered her incapable of thought or speech. She could only moan and writhe. He cupped her breasts and squeezed them, giving her all the roughness and sensation that she craved. Long moments of sensation. Such a splendid sensation. She writhed all the more, moaning with sheer bliss.
He kissed his way down her belly, sending shivers of sensation through her body. Then his mouth touched her mons.
She sucked in her breath and then clutched his hair. “Evan!”
He looked up at her, his eyes dark with passion. “Angela...”
She could have fainted at such close inspection of her intimate self. Except she was mindless with desire.
