Her hand tightened around his cock. “So we did. Very well, I’ll not mention it again, if you’ll not mention your age again.”
“It seems a fair bargain.” His hands slid into her hair, knocking some of the pins loose. He brought his face close to hers and whispered, “You will lick it off, is that what you said?”
She was wet and hot and oh, so ready. “Slowly. I said I will lick it off . . . slowly.” Releasing her hold on his cock, she reached up and cradled his face between her palms to keep him steady while she moved her tongue across his lips, first this way, then that. After a time, he groaned and opened his mouth to suck her tongue within. They kissed an eternity, and she knew, without a doubt, she’d never been kissed as Sherbourne kissed her. His entire body seemed to kiss her, his thighs spread to encompass hers, his heavy, muscular arms surrounding her, his body curled around hers, and his mouth solely focused upon hers. He made love to her mouth, sucking and licking and slowly, deliberately, languidly bringing her arousal to a fever pitch.
When she didn’t think she could wait another moment to feel him inside of her, he lifted his head and whispered, “How shall I please you tonight, Lucy? Have you something in mind?”
Meeting his gaze, she smiled softly. “The chair, just over there.” She nodded toward the fireplace, to the wingback she’d had removed from Blixford’s room and delivered to hers, explaining to Peatrie that she frequently suffered insomnia and liked to read late in the night.
“Ah, it’s a temptation you can’t resist, and I know why.” He spun her about and began undoing her buttons. “Shocking, Lucy, but you’ve no chemise, and no stays. Whatever were you thinking when you dressed for dinner?”
“Possibly the same thing you thought when you failed to don drawers beneath your satin gown. Scandalous, naughty Mrs. Sherry.”
“I admit to rather enjoying the sensation of satin against my nakedness. Hedonistic, I suppose.” When her gown dropped to her waist, his hands captured her breasts and he stood just behind her, looking over her shoulder, watching his long fingers caress and massage until her dark nipples were hard and pointed. “Lovely Lucy, I’ve never been quite so intrigued with a woman’s breasts. Yours are extraordinary. Exotic.” He nibbled her ear, licked her lobe, sending shivers along her back, all the while continuing his particular attention to her bosom. “Did you know,” he whispered in a low, husky voice, “a man can make love to a woman’s breasts?”
Her entire pelvis exploded with desire so strong, she knew it would take but one touch to reach climax. She closed her eyes. It was too much, the gentle but firm pressure of his hands, his words, the sight of his strong fingers upon her. She couldn’t watch another moment without going off. “I . . . suspected.”
“Did you, Lucy? In your lonely bed, did you caress these perfect breasts and imagine the length of a man, nestled within your cleavage?”
“Will you be shocked if I admit I did?”
He chuckled low in his throat. “Nothing of you could shock me. I know who you are, understand the delightfully erotic thoughts that bump about in your beautiful head. I’m enchanted and fascinated with you.” He turned her a bit, until she faced the fire –and the chair. “I’ve a fair idea of how you imagine it will be, but enlighten me anyway, in case I’ve got it wrong.”
“You will sit, and I will be in your lap.”
“Will you face me, or the fire?”
“I’d like to try both ways.”
He made a sound that was close to a growl as he shoved her dress down until it pooled around her feet. “Then you shall, but I suggest you face the fire to begin.”
“Oh?” she asked as he bent to remove her slippers and garters. “Is there a reason?”
With his warm fingers against her legs, he replied, “Facing me, I’ll be compelled to kiss you, and kiss your breasts, and you’ll be compelled to look between us, where we are joined, and you’ll climax long before you have the chance to turn round the other way.” He stood and led her to the chair, where he sat and grinned up at her. “I’ve this lovely, open, needful lap, my lady. Won’t you have a seat?”
Turning her back to him, she moved between his thighs and slowly sat upon him, savoring the feel of him as he slid inside. His long fingers grasped her about the waist and steadied her, held some of her weight, making it easier to move upon him, up and down. But she quickly tired of it, because she couldn’t see him, couldn’t touch him as she wanted to. Abruptly, she pulled away and stood.