Page 83 of Heartbreaker of the Ton
Of what?
She shook her head, seeking the words, but none came. Her mind on the brink of dissolution, she could only surrender to pure sensation—as if, on the brink, she ceased to be Etty andinstead was nothing more than a female driven by pure need, a mare presenting herself before the stallion.
“Andrew…” she panted. “I need… I want…”
“What, my love?” he asked, his voice strained.
She shook her head. “I d-don’t know—but I need something. I—Oh!”
He dipped his finger through her curls and slicked it along her flesh. The ache sweetened and intensified, and she arched her back, opening her mouth to strain for air.
Then he withdrew his hand, and she let out a scream of frustration as the pleasure faded. “No!”
He grew still at her plea, and she opened her eyes to see him staring at her, his brow furrowed in pain, his eyes glistening, the tendons on his neck protruding, jaw taut.
“Etty…” he rasped through gritted teeth. “Etty—am I hurting you? I-I cannot stop…”
“No!” she cried. “Please—Ineedyou!”
She thrust her hips upward, chasing the pleasure, and he closed his eyes, his breath stuttering. A low growl escaped his lips and he shook his head.
“I have no wish to hurt you,” he said. “I—”
“You cannot hurt me, Andrew,” she said. “I am no maiden.”
“But how will I—”
He broke off with a long, low groan as she reached down and circled him with her hand.
“You cannot hurt me, my love,” she whispered. “You can only give me pleasure—sweet, sweet pleasure.”
She caressed him, running her fingertips along the soft, silken flesh, relishing the potent strength within. Her breath hitched as she reached the tip of him, slick with moisture, to match the slickness between her thighs, and he let out a cry as she gave a gentle squeeze.
“Sweet heaven—what you do to me!” he said. “Can I be dreaming?”
“No, my love—this is real,” she replied. “The love we share is real.”
She parted her thighs and guided him toward her center. His eyes flew open, and she smiled up at him. They stilled for a moment, then she nodded, giving her consent.
He tensed for a moment, then, with a quick thrust, he entered her. Pleasure flared, and as he sheathed himself fully inside her, his eyes filled with wonder.
Etty shifted her hips back, withdrawing. His lips curved into a smile, and he eased himself out of her. Then he inhaled sharply before plunging into her once more, and she lifted her hips to meet him.
Pleasure flared again, and she let out a low mewl.
“Is that…” he said, his breathing hoarse, and she nodded.
“Yes, Andrew,” she said, “oh…yes!” She let out another cry as he withdrew and plunged in once more, setting a steady rhythm. He increased the pace, and the wave of pleasure swelled with each movement, pushing back and forth, a treacherous current that claimed her soul—to which she would gladly surrender.
With each thrust, her body swelled and pulsed, until, with a shattering explosion, she disintegrated, pulling him deeper inside and crying out his name.
“Andrew!”
He threw back his head and continued to pound inside her, while pleasure ripped her body apart. Then the wave crested. His thrusts grew more frenzied, until he let out a hoarse cry. Then he pulled her to him, shuddering and trembling while he clung to her as if his life depended on it.
The ripples in her flesh subsided while he sighed and murmured her name, his thrusts weakening until he lay on top of her, holding her close, his breath coming in quick, hard puffsbeside her ear. At length, his breathing slowed. He lay still, his heartbeat a thick pulse against her chest, beating in unison with hers, and, a smile on her lips, Etty drifted into a doze.
*
