Page 79 of Empowered By the Earl (Second Sons of London 3)

“Yes,” she said softly.

“I will put my fingers there if you ask me. And my tongue,” he promised. “If you ask.”

Heat filled her at his words. She recalled he said that was done but she couldn’t imagine it.

Owen leaned over her, his fingers entwining with hers, his hard, muscled torso grazing her flesh. Fire blazed within her. He kissed her slowly, thoroughly, completely.

Breaking the kiss, he smiled at her. “Do you have anything to ask me, Louisa?”

She swallowed hard. “I... do.”

When she hesitated, he kissed her again. “I need to know you want me as much as I want you, my love.”

“Oh!” He called hermy love. Did that mean he loved her? He had said he wanted to marry her but Owen had said he didn’t believe in love. It might just be an endearment. Or it could be—

His pressed his lips against her pulse, which pounded. “You are overthinking things. Talk to me, Louisa. It is important that I know how to please you.”

She chuckled. “You are the kind of man who instinctively knows how to please a woman, Owen.”

He gazed at her longingly. “I only have one woman I want to please now. You.”

His mouth moved to her breast and devoured it hungrily. She whimpered and moved restlessly as he did so. He attacked the other one with equal gusto, sucking, licking, nipping until she thought she had lost her mind.

His mouth came back to hers and tenderly kissed her. “Well?”

Summoning all the bravery she possessed—and knowing that this man was the one to have emboldened her—she said, “I want you to put your fingersandyour tongue inside me.”

Owen beamed at her. “Very well.”

His hands skimmed the curve of her hips, going all the way to her knees and then his fingers danced back up her thighs. They teased the seam of her sex, brushing back and forth along it, causing her breath to become shallow spurts. Then he pushed a finger inside her and she sucked in that breath.

“You are so wet for me, love. That means you do want me.”

His fingers worked the same magic as before and soon Louisa writhed on the bed, clutching the bedclothes as that fullness grew and grew and spilled forth. She bucked against his hand, riding the waves as they crested and fell, crested and fell. Finally, she grew still.

His tongue circled her belly button and began sliding lower. Panic shot through her and she pushed up to a sitting position.

Owen gave her a disdainful look and pushed her back down, one large hand pressing against her belly to keep her in place. Then he lowered his head between her legs and she felt something. Something wicked and wonderful. Something beyond wicked and wonderful.

His hands moved to her ankles. He brought them to the bed and placed them on the edge.

“Keep them here for now.”

He then took her knees in hand and pulled them away from her body, parting her thighs. She realized this gave him better access. His tongue plunged inside her and stroked her, moving in and out in varying speeds. That fullness came quickly and she cried out as he feasted upon her. Her fingers pushed into his hair and clutched it as he had his way with her. Her orgasm came so hard and fast that when it ended, she lay limp and unmoving.

Owen lifted her until her head touched the pillows.

“I can’t move,” she said, her eyelids drooping. “I can barely speak.”

He hovered over her again. “You are sated,” he said. “But it can be even better.”

“I don’t see how,” she mumbled.

His hands began stroking her body. She opened her eyes and saw he now straddled her.

“You do want to wed me?” he asked, uncertainty on his face.

Louisa smiled. “I do.”

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