Page 61 of Intolerable
“We should probably return to the ball,” he said with a tinge of disappointment.
She could see that he was torn. Clasping his head and neck, she dragged him down for a blazing kiss, commanding him with her lips and tongue. When she was finished, she looked up into his eyes with dark, insistent need. “I’d prefer to take advantage of this stolen moment. There’s no telling how many we’ll have in the next three years.”
“So domineering,” he said with a tsk, his eyes glittering with desire. “I like it.” He led her to a chaise that was pushed up against the wall.
Sitting down with her, he gently caressed her face. “Let me make sure I understand this plan of yours. We’re going to stop talking to each other in public?”
He reached down and found the hem of her dress. Cassandra held her breath as the fabric skimmed up her legs.
She somehow managed to answer his question. “Not entirely. Just no dancing or promenading.”
“How disappointing.” He settled her gown above her knees while he kissed behind her ear. His hand moved up along her thigh, his touch gentle and arousing as his fingertips skimmed over her bare flesh.
“No flirting, either, I suppose.” She was surprised she could still speak. Her entire body was tingling with sensation.
“That will be difficult.” He pressed against her inner thigh, silently urging her to part her legs. She opened herself as she clutched his upper arm, which was wrapped around her waist. “But if I know I can see you like this once in a while, I think I can manage. Do you want me to continue, Cassandra?”
“Yes.” She’d pleasured herself, but it had felt completely different than this. His touch was light and enticing. It was as if her body was awakening for the first time.
He kissed her as his hand reached her sex, his fingers stroking and teasing. The need inside her built, heat unfurling, beneath his relentless attention.
Clasping the back of her head, he pulled it back, his fingers tangling in her hair. He kissed down her arched neck, his teeth nipping at her flesh, making her cry out. She slapped her hand over her mouth and tried not to whimper as he slipped his finger into her sex. A desperate need exploded within her.
“God, I want to remove your gown,” he muttered against her, his tongue dipping into the crease between her breasts. “Another time, perhaps.”
His hand worked with exquisite precision, alternating between her clitoris, that most tender part, and her sheath. Every stroke and thrust drove her closer to the brink. Pleasure built until she felt as if she stood on top of the world.
He kissed up her neck, next to her ear then whispered, “Come, Cass. Do you know how to do that?Come.” He speared into her, his thumb working her outer flesh. She pitched over the pinnacle into rapturous oblivion.
As he took her hand away from her mouth, she realized she’d kept it there. Now he replaced it with his lips, kissing her as she floated back to herself from wherever she’d gone.
His hand had continued its ministrations during her orgasm, but now he withdrew, gently tugging her gown back over her legs. Then he did the most outrageous thing. He put his fingers into his mouth—the ones that had been inside her—and sucked. His gaze locked with hers, and she could not look away from his scandalous behavior.
“Ruark!”
He slipped his fingers from his mouth and grinned. “You taste divine. Next time, I’ll be more direct when I savor you.” He licked his lips, and the pulse of heat between her legs that she thought he’d satisfied roared back.
“Mayhap I’ll be the one to do the savoring,” she said with a saucy smile.
He groaned. “How am I supposed to ignore you in public when you say such things? Or when you look like you do?” He kissed her again, and she swore she could taste herself on his tongue.
Then he was gone, jumping up from the chaise, and pulling her along with him. He frowned at her head. “Your hair needs a bit of tidying. There has to be a mirror in here.” He left her to search for one.
Cassandra’s heart was just beginning to find its normal rhythm. She smoothed her hand over her skirt and a realization came to her. “You did all of that with your left hand.”
“I’m ambidextrous. Next time I’ll use my right.” He looked back at her over his shoulder and waggled his brows.
“What about you? Don’t you need release?”
“Eureka!” He picked up a small mirror then brought it to her, holding up in front of her so she could smooth her hairstyle back into place. Thankfully, it wasn’t too terrible. “And, no, I don’t need to find release.”
She glanced down and noted the hard outline of his cock. “Your body says otherwise,” she said wryly. “Can’t we fix that?”
“We’ve already been gone too long. When you go—we shouldn’t go back together—I’ll take care of it.”
“How?” She took the mirror from him and set it behind her on the chaise.
“Er, in much the same way I did for you. With my hand.”
