Page 113 of Harpy of the Ton
“Good lass.”
She let out a whimper at the pulse of need elicited by his gentle praise. Then he dipped his head once more, and her skin burned where his tongue flicked out against her flesh.
“What a sweet scent,” he said, his breath hot against her curls. “They say the enjoyment of a meal comes first from the lookin’, then from the scent. Until there’s only one pleasure to be had.”
“Wh-what is that?” she panted.
“The tastin’.”
He dipped his tongue into her curls and probed her flesh with the tip of his tongue, the soft, silken weapon moving slickly along the folds.
Sensations flooded her body—the heat radiating through her blood, the ache pulsing in her flesh, and the sharp waves of pure pleasure where he dipped in and out, murmuring his delight as he savored her. A great wave swelled in her mind—moving back and forth, each peak higher than the last, rising toward a crest…
“Mmm…” he rumbled, sending shock waves through her. “Delicious—the finest taste a man can devour is his woman, when she’s ready.”
“R-ready?” she said, her breath coming in shallow gasps.
“Oh yes,” he said. “I could smell your need from the moment I parted them pretty thighs—and I can taste it now. It’s when a man knows she’s ready to take him inside her.”
He dipped his tongue again, this time more insistently. The wave swelled toward the crest, and with it, a madness began to form—a craving that begged to be eased, intensifying until her whole body yearned for release…
Then he withdrew, and she let out a scream of frustration.
“No!” She reached out and fisted her hands in his hair, pulling him against her flesh. “Lawrence—don’t stop, I beg you!”
But he withdrew and sat up. She lifted her knees and thrust her hips forward, no longer caring about the sinful wantonness with which she offered herself.
He reached for his shirt and began to unbutton it, his hands trembling. The first button came undone, but he struggled with the next.
“Oh, fuck it.” Abandoning his shirt, he fumbled at his breeches, pulling at the buttons until he sprang free—thick and jutting.
Sweet Lord—he was huge! Surely he wasn’t going to putthatinside her?
He shifted toward her, his member bobbing as he moved until he’d climbed on top of her. He prodded the inside of her thigh, and she let out a whimper, her body tensing.
“You need to relax, love, when you take my cock,” he said. “Trust me.”
She nodded.
“No, Bella—you must say it.”
“I trust you.”
He slipped inside her curls to probe against her sensitized flesh. A flare of pleasure ignited, and she drew in a sharp breath, biting her lip, tasting blood.
“Woman, look at me.”
She lifted her gaze.
“Do you want me?”
“Y-yes…” she whispered, bracing herself for the onslaught.
He gritted his teeth, sliding against her, each movement growing slicker. “Say it.”
“I want you, Lawrence,” she said. “Please!”
He moved his hips forward, and she felt her flesh stretching as the tip of him pushed inside her.
