Charming Sir Charles (Dashing Widows 5) - Page 34

She stiffened and gasped in shock, but he soon had her sighing and undulating against him. When he worked his tongue against her center, she gave a cracked cry and grasped his shoulders. She quivered against his seeking mouth before on another cry, she reached her climax. He lapped at her as she floated down from the heights, then raised his head to stare into her face.

Sally was flushed, and her features were soft with the aftermath of pleasure. But he couldn’t mistake the surprise in her eyes.

“What…what was that?”

Hell, what a damned clumsy brute her husband must have been.

As he smiled, her salty taste was rich on his tongue. “You liked it?”

“It made me feel wicked.” Her voice was husky.

“But you liked it?”

Her blush intensified. “You know I did.”

“Good.” He placed a kiss on one satiny white thigh. Then he sat up to unbutton his breeches. As his heart raced with rapacious anticipation, he fumbled with the uncooperative fastenings.

The moment he saw her, he’d wanted her, come to love her not long after that. She’d put him through hell since. Having her sprawled before him, panting as she quivered after her first climax, beggared his wildest dreams.

Her passion-darkened gaze settled where his cock stood out from his breeches. “Dear Lord above,” she whispered and lifted her hand.

He braced for her caress, but shyness caught her at the last moment.

“Touch me,” Charles grated out, catching her hand and placing it on him.

Heat from the contact blasted through him and threatened his precarious control. He clenched his teeth and fought the urge to lose himself in her hand.

Her fingers trembled under his, but he saw fascination in her face, as she instinctively curled into a fist around him.

Another thundering shudder of heat. He closed his eyes as she tentatively shifted up toward the sensitive tip.

“Am I…am I hurting you?” she asked unsteadily, stroking down again. Thank God, without releasing him.

“No.” Speaking was damned difficult when the fireworks shooting through his head were fit to rival the damned Battle of Waterloo. “Harder.”

She firmed her grip and moved her hand, finding her own rhythm after a few false starts that nearly took the top of his head off. Her unskilled caresses threatened to incinerate him to smoking shards.

He caught her spread thighs as if clinging to a precipice, and let her have her way. The pleasure verged on unbearable torment. It would be so easy—safer—to spill into her fist. But this first time, there was no way in Hades he’d miss being inside her.

When she brushed her thumb across the damp head, he reached the limit of his restraint. Roughly he snatched at her hand, but the kiss he placed on her knuckles was gentle. Her skin had caught his musk. “I can’t wait a second longer.”

Sally’s eyes deepened, and her lips parted. “Charles…”

“I love to hear you say my name.” He leaned in and kissed her with open-mouthed hunger. She hooked her hands over his shoulders and fitted her body to his.

He ripped at his neck cloth, flinging it to the floor. A low sound of feminine approval emerged from her throat. With greedy hands, she pushed aside his shirt, and he groaned as her palms flattened over the bare skin of his chest.

When she placed a kiss between his nipples, the sweetness squeezed his heart. He twined his hand in her tumble of hair and held her still for another voracious kiss.

With his other hand, he stroked her, reveling in her liquid response. The scent of arousal thickening the air teased him with the promise of looming fulfillment.

“Oh, that’s good,” Sally sighed, angling toward his caresses.

When she curled her arms across his back, pulling him down to her, he could delay no longer. Rising on one arm so he could watch every second of this transcendent consummation, he pressed into her.

He met slippery heat and glorious resistance. Then with a deep groan of triumph, he slid into her as if they were born to join together.

She released a surprised gasp and tightened around him. The sensation threatened his threadbare control, but he tensed every muscle against release.

Tags: Anna Campbell Dashing Widows Romance
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