Page 24

He strummed lazily over her already sensitized bud as he sucked her nipple at the same time.

She was thoroughly soaked, the wet sounds of him stroking up and down her heated flesh almost obscene.

And somehow, it made her even wetter. Rhys moved to her left breast, cupping the right in his big hand, his thumb working over the slick point of her nipple as he licked a lazy circle around the tip of the left.

Her nails dug into the firm, smooth skin of his shoulder, and she writhed beneath him, wrapping a leg around his hip.

Another sound stole from her, husky and wanting.

He mouthed the peak of her breast, his tongue flicking over her. “Sweet Miranda. Tell me what you want. What you need.”

“You,” she managed, the urgency building, growing.

She felt as if she were a different person.

Congress with Ammondale had been an unpleasant, pleasureless duty.

But now she understood the sentiments in the bawdy books she had secretly read in private, the feverish yearnings she had so sternly repressed for so many years.

Now, she wanted her body to be joined with this man’s in the oldest and most primitive sense.

Rhys kissed his way to her throat, burying his face there as he nipped her with his teeth and teased her pearl. “How do you need me?”

His voice was a tantalizing whisper against her skin, making her shiver, making her stir restlessly against him, her hips chasing his touch.

She wetted her lips. “I need you inside me.”

She wanted him more than she wanted her next breath. Wanted the reassuring weight of him atop her, the brand of his bare skin on hers, the fullness of his cock entering her.

Rhys strung a line of kisses along her jaw, and then his mouth was on hers, firm and possessive and insistent as he fed her the taste of herself.

He deepened the kiss, his tongue tangling with hers, as he settled himself more firmly between her thighs.

She moaned as he slicked the blunt head of his cock up and down her seam, before notching himself at her entrance.

He broke the kiss, propping himself up on a lone forearm as his gaze seared hers. “Are you ready for me, darling?”

No, she wasn’t, and yes, she was, all at once. It was tonight or never. Here was her chance to seize what she wanted, even though it would have to be fleeting. Tonight and never again. No one need ever know but the two of them.

“Yes,” she told him, bringing his lips back down to hers and kissing him with all the desire raging inside her.

With a hum of approval, he slanted his mouth over hers, deepening the kiss.

His movements between their bodies were hasty, almost jerky.

Decidedly lacking in the smooth elegance he ordinarily displayed, and she savored the evidence that he, the experienced rakehell, was every bit as affected as she was.

The blunt tip of his cock pressed, seeking. She tensed, preparing herself for what would come. He seemed to sense her reticence, breaking the kiss to murmur reassuring words to her. Soft words. Sweet words.

He kissed the corner of her mouth. “Relax for me, darling. Let me in.”

She inhaled slowly, the scent of him, masculine and decadent, flooding her senses, her hard nipples grazing his chest. Yes, she thought, reminding herself it was Rhys lying atop her, Rhys who was about to make love to her, the man who had so thoroughly pleasured her beforehand that she had briefly lost all ability to think, move, or speak.

It was Rhys, a man she desired, a man who didn’t disdain and resent her.

A man who wanted her every bit as much as she wanted him.

And she relaxed, the tension draining from her body as she waited.

His touch returned to her sex, slicking over her sensitive bud, and he eased forward, gliding into her as if he had been fashioned specifically for her, as if their two bodies had always been meant to join as one.

Another thrust, and he filled her, and she gasped at the surprising rightness of it, at the feeling of her stretched around him, his cock buried within her.

But…

Oh, heavens.

That wasn’t all. He moved again, deeper still.

She gasped as sensation washed over her, her inner walls clenching on him in welcome, and he lowered his forehead to hers, his ragged breath ghosting over her mouth.

“How is this?” he asked softly, such tenderness and caring in his voice.

“Yes,” was all she could bite out. Then, belatedly realizing she hadn’t provided the correct response for his question, she added, “Lovely.”

“Lovely, hmm?” He kissed her cheek, and she could feel his lips curved in a smile. “I’ll have to do better, then.”

She wasn’t sure he could. Miranda opened her mouth to tell him so, but in that next instant, he shifted, leveraging himself over her again as he withdrew from her almost entirely, only to sink within her again.

This time, she savored the sensation, the slippery glide of his cock through her wetness.

He pressed deep, even farther or so it seemed, not stopping until she was pinned to the bed, his body perfectly aligned with hers.

The cords of his throat were taut, his movements careful and slow, and it seemed as if his tight grasp on his control was almost too much.

She understood, because the pleasure was so intense that she felt as if she might break apart at any moment.

As if pieces of her would fly into the very stars above.

This was…

This was good. Wondrous. Better than good. It was everything she had never known she had been missing.

Indeed, words failed to describe what she felt as Rhys moved in and out of her, eliciting her gasps and moans and cries, wringing bliss from her until she was sure she couldn’t bear it.

Until the noises hatching from her throat sounded more as if they belonged to an animal than a refined lady.

She wrapped her legs around Rhys, matching his rhythm.

Her nails raked down his back as she met him thrust for thrust, and then everything within her seized and she was coming again, contracting on him in uncontrollable spasms as a gush of wetness sluiced from her.

He pushed into her again, grunting, gritting his teeth, his jaw clenched.

And then his movements quickened, his cock hastily sliding from her, his touch leaving her as he grasped himself in a tight hold.

One stroke, and he threw his head back, a strangled cry of sheer erotic elation echoing off the chamber walls as he spilled on her belly and inner thigh.

He collapsed at her side, pulling her against him, and she burrowed her face in his chest, inhaling deeply of his scent, not minding the stickiness of his seed cooling on her heated flesh. Her heart pounded hard as she wrapped her arms around him in return, holding him close.