Page 49 of Wickedly Yours
When she didn’t answer immediately, he gently squeezed her nipple between his thumb and forefinger until she whispered, “Yes. You seem to like me in blue.”
“I have wanted you for a very long time, Arabella. I watched you at the few balls you attended, until you no longer went out. Difficult and dour woman that you are.” Lips fell against hers, gentle and coaxing. “Do you wonder any longer why I came for you?”
“No.” Arabella’s body melted as she threaded her fingers through the damp strands of his hair. The tips of her breasts rubbed deliciously against his chest, the sensitive peaks chafing against the lace and silk in an almost painful way. She moved her hands to cup both sides of his face, feeling the brush of his whiskers against the palms of her hands, and opened her mouth to his.
A low primitive sound rumbled from deep in his chest. Grabbing her hips, he edged closer to the bed. “Lie down.”
A small feeling of trepidation mixed with the anticipation coursing through her. She backed up against the coverlet on her elbows, the nightgown inching up to bare her thighs as she did so.
Rowan appeared large and predatory as he pushed her knees apart to stand between her legs. “This,” he tugged at the nightgown, “must come off, Arabella.” Deft fingers tugged at the fragile ribbon holding the neck of the garment together.
A slight tearing sound met her ears as her breasts spilled out, her nipples hardening in the cool air of the room. His hands opened and circled the mounds, squeezing and rubbing the pads of his thumbs against the small peaks.
“Jesus, you’re beautiful.” Then he ripped the remainder of the fragile material with one sharp jerk of his hand.
She lay before him as if she were indeed a virgin about to be sacrificed to some pagan god. Rowan certainly looked the part as he loomed over her prone body. Half his large form lay in shadow while firelight gilded the other portion of his body with gold, his eyes dark with hunger as if he wished to devour her.
His hands stroked up the side of one breast, then down her side, tracing each rib. Fingers wove through the soft hair between her legs. “Finally, mine,” he whispered. “Every bit of your darkness belongs to me.”
An intoxicating haze of pleasure fell over her as she watched him. Rowan understood her as no one else ever had. Accepted her. Shewasfull of darkness and sometimes it threatened to overwhelm her.
“Yes.” She sucked in her breath as the warmth of his mouth enveloped her nipple. His tongue tortured her breast, nipping and sucking until her entire body throbbed with the need for more.
His mouth left her breast and Arabella sighed in disappointment. He gave a quiet laugh as his lips pressed the underside of her breast before nibbling down her skin. Teeth grazed across her stomach making the muscles jump and twitch in pleasure.
This was the most exquisite form of torture. Her breathing became rough as every movement of his mouth sent another shock of moisture to her core. When he finally made his way to her navel, he paused.
“I think about tasting you, Bella.” He murmured between nips of her flesh. “I want to savor you like fine wine.”
“Rowan.” His name left her lips almost like a plea. Her entire body ached and throbbed. Arabella knew what he wanted. Where he intended to put his mouth. She’d heard of such things, of course, but the thought of such being done to her? Arabella’s legs squeezed shut.
“No, sweetheart. These are never to be shut to me.” He nipped at her thigh. “You’ll like this, Bella. I promise.” A finger slid through her damp folds, gliding over the softness. Teasing her. “You are as beautiful here as everywhere else.”
Arabella found she couldn’t speak. Her hips twisted against him as the finger teased her already swollen flesh. He avoided the center of her pleasure and instead seemed content to stroke and caress her sensitive folds. It was maddening.
One finger slid inside her, thrusting gently.
“This is what you like.” His breath was hot against her thigh.
“Yes.” Arabella was panting like a wild animal, the need within her growing to a feverish pitch as it had the night he’d touched her in the coach.
Another finger followed the first, stretching and thrusting. Soft pressure fell against the small bit of flesh hidden within her folds as Rowan pressed his thumb to her in a rotating motion. “The things I wish to do to you, my lovely wife. So many things. We will spend whole days in bed.” He pressed the underside of the small bundle of nerves and her hips lifted.
“Yes,” she choked out, nearly mindless from the pleasure surging through her body.
“Think how much better this will feel when I use my mouth.” One hand cupped her buttock and pressed her up towards his waiting mouth. He blew a soft puff of air through the hair of her mound. “You are lovely here. Do you ever touch yourself, Bella?”
“No—” Arabella fisted the coverlet in each hand as his tongue caressed her folds. Each stroke sent bolts of sensation across her body.
“I don’t think you’re being truthful.” He paused, waiting.
“Yes, but—”
His mouth and tongue moved in unison, suckling her tender flesh until the lightest touch caused her to whimper. “Please.” She arched trying to position herself more fully in his mouth. Bits of fire broke and flamed across her skin. The pressure intensified to a fever pitch. “Please, Rowan.” She was begging.Pleading.
The fingers inside her curled.
Arabella threw back her head. He was killing her. Every nerve in her body coiled tight, ready to spring.
