Page 74 of Intolerable
She moved her hand beneath them and massaged gently. “Oh, they are rather soft and the flesh around them is…interesting.”
“You can squeeze them carefully—not too tight.”
“Like this?” She lightly compressed them.
“Yes.” He sounded as though he were being strangled. And he supposed he was—in the best possible way.
Continuing her ministrations, she dipped her head and licked the tip. “Is this supposed to taste salty?”
“So I’m told.” He itched to tangle his fingers in her hair and hold her while he thrust deep into her mouth. But she was in command.
“Mmm.” She closed her mouth around him then. He was torn between giving himself over to complete sensation and watching her take him into her. He did both, first throwing his head back against the squab as she sucked him then peering down at her as she pleasured him.
He watched, enthralled, and tried to hold himself in check. But with every slide of her tongue and caress of her hand, he was deeper in the wilderness. If he wasn’t careful, he would be lost.
Clasping her head, he pulled her back. “Cass, you have to stop before I come.”
“Why? The point is to ensure you do.”
“But if I do, it will be…in your mouth.”
She hadn’t stopped stroking him. “Then so be it.” Dipping her head once more, she went back to her exquisite work. He couldn’t keep himself from rocking into her mouth, the sweet rhythm of her hand and mouth pushing him to the edge of his restraint.
“Faster,” he breathed, the muscles in his hips clenching.
She increased her speed and he groaned as every part of him tensed, anticipating the coming release. It did not disappoint.
His orgasm washed through him with a ferocity he’d never known, carrying him to a fantastic height while at the same time casting him into the darkest oblivion. He held onto her, mindless, amidst the overwhelming ecstasy.
After some time, he realized she’d never let him go, swallowing every last bit of what he’d offered. Spent, he forced his eyes open and looked down at her. She’d scooted back and sat on the floor against the opposite seat, a satisfied smile teasing her gorgeous, wondrously skilled mouth.
She handed him his shirt, which he pulled on and adjusted over his abdomen before pushing the hem into his waistband. When he looked up, she’d covered her breasts, much to his disappointment.
He must have frowned or given some indication as to what he thought of losing his view for she said, “It had to be done. I can’t very well go back to the house like that.”
He chuckled. “I suppose not.”
He felt a burst of love for her along with regret that he was making her wait for a promise he’d made to a dead man. It was more than that, however. He didn’t trust his emotions.
What if he could? Would he break his vow and marry Cassandra before he was thirty?
“I really don’t deserve you,” he murmured as he tucked himself back into his clothing.
“I forbid you from saying that anymore. I offered to wait for you, and I will. Though I admit that after tonight it will be incredibly difficult.”
He couldn’t disagree with her there. “What if I broke my vow?” he whispered so softly he barely heard himself.
She reached for him, grasping his wrist. “I can’t ask you to do that.”
“You’re not. Just as I didn’t ask you to wait for me.”
“What if you compromised? I didn’t want to be rushed into marriage—which my father seems to have trouble accepting—and neither do you. We love each other. Let us see how things are between us at the end of the Season.”
Her idea had merit. “Thirty was a rather arbitrary age anyway.” The key was for Ruark to know his mind and heart. He’d never stayed in love more than a handful of weeks. There was double that left in the Season. “I like this plan.” He pulled his arm from her grip so they could clasp hands. “Do you?”
“I do.” She kissed his hand then let him go. “Now, we must hurry.”
They both righted their appearances to the best of their ability. Ruark helped her from the coach, and they left the stable through the door they’d come in. Circuiting the outer wall, they held hands in silence until they reached the corner.
