Page 8 of How to Lose a Dowry in Three Bucks (A Few Good Bucks #3)

If anyone knew how hot Sophia’s blood ran at the earl’s words, society would cast her out.

Good.

Sophia covered Matt’s hand, stroking her inner thigh, and brought it to her quim. She had a sense of what might feel good but wanted to see what an experienced man might do to her. How he might admire and use her.

“I bet you’re tight,” he muttered, drifting over her nub and placing two fingers right at her entrance. She wiggled to get movement against the skin demanding his touch, then cried out when he pressed in.

“My apologies,” he said, withdrawing quickly and earning another cry.

Sophia grabbed Peverel’s hand before he could fully withdraw and guided him back inside, moaning as he sunk into her body again.

“You like it,” he said wonderingly. “Already.”

It was an understatement. The fullness and stretch were unlike anything she’d experienced during her own explorations. Before she could smother it, a tiny tremor began within, far too soon for her liking.

“And you’re not pained?” he asked.

Sophia nodded no, all the while arching her back and bouncing to meet his thrusting fingers with enthusiasm.

“I’m going to add a finger…”

She groaned, the strain only making her feel better. She’d thought that a woman’s first time was supposed to hurt and result in crying, but she only felt a delicious sensation of fullness.

“Fuck, Sophia,” said the earl, “I bet you could take most of me this very day.”

At that, she reached for his trousers and worked at freeing his manhood. She’d seen that enormous piece once, and she wanted it now. Within her. All of it.

He caught up her hands with one of his. “You want it that badly? One lesson has turned you into my little wanton?” The smile on his face suggested that this wasn’t in any way a complaint.

Sophia was awash in pleasure, desperate for him. Even if ruination was her aim, she shouldn’t have been reacting like this to his touch and the promise of his cock, but she needed this giant of a man in her, on her. If that made her a wanton, a slut? So be it.

“Put it in me,” she rasped. She’d seen his club, and longed to be filled by that monstrous thing that had turned her dreams hot.

The earl lifted a brow. “Put what? My cock?”

Oh, she was bound for hell, but she didn’t care. “Put your cock in me.”

“And who am I?” he asked.

Sophia paused, uncertain of what he wanted to hear. What she needed to say to get him inside of her. “Matthew? Put your cock inside of me, Matthew.”

A growl seemed to escape his body as he tore at his trousers to free his cock from its confines. And soon, faster than they both expected, he was there, lining that enormous head up at her opening.

“Watch Soph,” he said, “see how beautifully you take me.”

Together, they regarded that fat head push into her wet entrance; the ring growing tight and lighter as he tested it.

“Too much?” he asked faintly.

“It’s good,” she said with an exhaled puff of air. Sophia closed her eyes to focus on the feeling of him filling and stretching her.

“Oh, Soph,” he said, sounding almost emotional as he pressed deeper into her channel. “So perfect.”

He was big, but in the most pleasurable way, his manhood stroking spots that had her quim throbbing.

When Sophia opened her eyes, he was over her, looking down with concern. He darted down to plant another quick kiss on her lips. “Still doing well?”

“Feels good,” she gasped. She felt more than good, but found that she couldn’t put a more complex sentence together on account of the way her brain solely existed to register the feelings he was forcing into her body with his enormous cock.

“Can you take the rest of me?” he asked.

“There’s more?” It seemed impossible. He was already so thick, so deep, but she wanted to embrace and smother all of him. Take every giant part of him into her much smaller body until he was forever hers.

“Just a little more,” he said against her ear, then pressed deeper inside.

“Go deeper.” He was impossibly big, seated so far his cockhead might touch the edge of her very soul. Never had she imagined that impalement might be so pleasurable.

“Soph, my Sophie, darling Sophia, what have you done to me?” he mumbled against her hair. Was her ear wet? The earl couldn’t be crying, could he? “You don’t eat meat, but you take it so well.”

She felt speared in the most incredible way.

And then he brushed his fingers over her straining nub and set forth a paroxysm unlike any she’d had before.

Her interior muscles wrapped around that thick cock of Matthew’s and bore down until she was nearly in pain at the strength of the contractions on something so big.

Her voice was not her own as she yelled, as though to reach through time.

Matthew whimpered and stayed still, as if in agony.

“Are you well?” she asked, rubbing her fingertips up his straining neck to comfort him.

At that, he pulled himself from her clasp.

With a roar, great jets of spend erupted from the tip of his cock, arcing over the floor.

The earl felt for her hand and brought it to his shaft, where together they stroked him through seemingly endless waves of pleasure that made a mess of the training room floor.

At last, he collapsed beside her on the chaise, catching his breath. Sophia surveyed the spend streaked across the floor and shifted on the plug still within her arse.

“I think you’re ready for the Forest,” he said to the floor.

Sophia gulped. Her very public ruination was imminent.