Page 50 of The Lady's Guide to Marrying a Viscount
He drew back to the edge of the bed, regretful but knowing that he did what was right. She’d been willing enough a few hours ago but that had been before he’d left her tied up for the evening.
He’d behaved abominably and, when she woke, he’d have to face her wrath. For the meantime, it would be enough to be close to her, with nothing between them—to be naked, her skin against his.
Having removed his clothes, he climbed beneath the quilt. The air smelt sweetly of her. Mallon’s conscience turned somersaults as she twisted toward him, her foot nudging his.
Damn it! He was only flesh and blood!
She moaned as he drew his hand lower, pushing up her gown to reveal her bare thighs. He lowered his lips to Geneviève’s belly and she shivered, uttering the smallest of sighs.
“Don’t stop,” she breathed, and a rush of joy filled him.
Moving lower, he brushed his face in her soft curls, inhaling her fragrance. She parted her legs fully, inviting him to delve the plump folds, and he did so eagerly. Caressing her in one long, languid stroke with his tongue’s tip, he came to rest on her swollen pearl. She whimpered as he teased there and sucked upon its velvet, delighting in each sound she made.
Lisette had beenreluctant to wait in the corridor for Lord Wulverton’s approach, but Geneviève had known he’d pass eventually. Her maid had clearly acted her part effectively, for he’d entered in such a fury, convinced of her duplicity!
Seeing he meant to restrain her, she’d hardly been able to curb her excitement—but then he’d made his exit, just as things had begun to be interesting.
It had taken a great deal of patience to wait, though the ties were not uncomfortable. He’d positioned her carefully, supporting her arms atop the pillows. Had she wished to free herself, she might have done so with her teeth, but she was content to wait. When he returned, she knew, he’d be unable to resist her.
She’d drowsed for a while but heard the click of the key in the lock. Time to be still and await what she knew to be inevitable.
Would his lovemaking be a savage demonstration of his strength? His will over hers? The thought of Lord Wulverton claiming her as she struggled thrilled her, though any resistance on her part would be purely feigned.
As he nuzzled her breasts, it was torture not to speak. A tickle in her nose almost caused her to sneeze, but she’d managed to convince him that she was sleeping, she was sure.
He smelt of cologne and brandy and cigar smoke, and of male arousal. By the time he removed his clothes, she was quivering with anticipation.
When his tongue entered, she was unable to curb her need, writhing against its flickering demands until she was keening. Clutching his head, she urged him deeper, arching to meet his mouth, repeating his name. She cried ‘Oh! And ‘Yes!’ and begged ‘Please!’ as he worshipped her, until she was tugged into fluttering ecstasy, breaking wave upon wave.
“Geneviève!”He nuzzled from her throat toward her ear. “My Geneviève.”
He kissed her with the passion of one who has waited too long for such comfort. He would kiss her everywhere, bringing her more pleasure than she could imagine. When he releasedher mouth, he returned to her exquisite breasts. He’d never tire of teasing those cherry nipples, licking first one then the other, murmuring his delight in her body.
Soon, she was begging again, shifting her hips to seek out his manhood, offering him her slipperiness.
“Not yet.” He knew he must slow down or spill immediately.
“Then let me taste you.”
“I shan’t last,” he warned, but she urged her request again.
“Here,” she commanded, licking her lips.
Holding the headboard, he parted his thighs either side of her head and lowered his thickness to her open mouth, gasping his astonishment as she drew him down, humming against his length.
Dear God! He was conquered. His body was hers.
He held himself above her, letting her choose the depth of her strokes. Within moments, his seed was rising, and with a wild cry, he surrendered.
CHAPTER 23
They restedin each other’s arms, whispering all the things they’d not yet said; all the things they’d never said before.
Then, they fell to kissing again, which led to limbs entwined, and she was silken wet, her body pleading for more of him.
He began slowly, relishing her squeezing of him, inch by inch, as he entered her warmth. He growled with pleasure, but soon it was she who was trembling, wanting him buried to the hilt.
“Deeper! Please!”
