Page 19 of In a Rake’s Embrace (Sins & Sensibilities #3)

CHAPTER 19

T homas gazed down at Agatha, his breath hitching as her delicate hands encircled his throbbing erection. She leaned in, her breath a silken, heated caress against his flesh. His gut clenched, and he swallowed hard, fighting to maintain control. Agatha began tentatively, her tongue tracing a slow, sensual glide along his cock, eliciting a groan from Thomas. He savored the wet heat of her mouth, the sensation sending hot shards of pleasure coursing through his body.

One of her hands fluttered to his hips, exploring the contours of his muscles. God, he never knew a touch as curious and innocent as this could make him this hungry for more. Thomas inhaled deeply, restraining his mounting need, determined to give her all the time she needed to indulge in this newfound intimacy. He watched as heated sensuality darkened her eyes.

Her lips trailed down the rigid length, and his balls ached, a sharp, almost unbearable pleasure as her wet tongue caressed them. Lust shivered through him, tingling up to the tip of his cock, flexing it with a desperate need. Agatha made a low sound of pleasure, then her swollen lips parted to cover the engorged, sensitive head of his cock. Thomas groaned, his control slipping further with each teasing flick of her tongue.

Her hair cascaded over her face, obscuring his view, and he gripped it, wrapping it around his hand, guiding her movements. Watching her suck his cock into her untried mouth was hotter and more intense than anything he could have imagined. The sight of her, so eager and uninhibited, filled him with lust so intense he felt intoxicated.

“Good,” he praised, his voice rough with restraint, remembering he should teach her to improve.

A knife-like pain cut from his chest down to his gut, a specter that rose inside him whenever he thought of another man touching her. He ruthlessly cut it away, focusing on the present, on the raw, unfiltered pleasure.

“Suck a little tighter … good … easy … that choking feel is natural … go slower … go—”

His words got lost in a groan as she curled her tongue and then sucked with a stronger pull, her mouth a vice of pleasure around him.

“Who taught you that?” The words hissed from him before he could control the savage feeling tearing through his chest.

She fucking winked, her brilliant green eyes daring him to react. Narrowing his gaze, Thomas tightened his grip on her hair and slowly pulled his length from a bliss that felt unknown.

“Who taught you?” he demanded, the cold warning in his tone unmistakable.

“Jealous?” she purred.

Her eyes were drowsy, heavy-lidded, but she stared at him with that wicked gleam of challenge, daring him to do something … but what?

Thomas stilled, his frown deepening. Jealousy? He had lived, laughed, andknown hurt, fury, joy, and annoyance for years, but jealousy was an emotion he had never encountered.

Bloody hell .

Agatha raked her teeth over his cock head, and he moaned, a sound he had never made for a lover. Thomas tightened his hand in her hair and slowly worked his cock inside her sweet hot mouth with firm, shallow strokes. It was sheer torture and paradise.

He encircled her throat with his other hand, holding her close and sliding his cock as deep down her throat as it would go. She made a muffled sound around his length, and her eyes watered, but he continued fucking her mouth with slow ease. He was lost in the scorching heat of her mouth, overwhelmed by the raw carnality she unleashed and the innocent hunger with which she claimed him. Agatha shifted, closing her thighs together.

“Open them.”

Her cheeks flushed, and she eased her knees open on the carpet.

“That ache you are feeling will not leave. Rub your fingers on your clitoris.”

Another moan around his cock, before she slipped her hands low over her belly, sliding them through her soaked pussy. She looked exquisitely provocative: her jaw hollowed, lips parted as she drew him deeper, cheeks flushed with the fervor of desire. Her eyes, dark with arousal, glittered and her hair spilled in wild, untamed waves around her shoulders. Her skin glistened with a sheen of sweat that accentuated every lush curve, each hollow and rise of her body. The delicate garters clung to her thighs, somehow innocent yet seductive, while her dancing shoes remained, a final touch ofdemureness in wicked, erotic contrast to her intoxicating abandon.

Seeing Agatha like this would be etched into his memory; years from now, he knew he would still recall this moment. In the past, once he moved on from a lover, he never allowed them to linger in his thoughts. But Agatha was different, slipping past his defenses and leaving an indelible mark.

“Work your pussy faster,” he commanded. “Use three fingers and press harder against your clitoris with each glide.”

She shuddered and climaxed; her gaze widened with stunned disbelief.

Ah, my sweet, you are still so beautifully innocent. And by God, I wantto unravel and debauch you.

Thomas pulled away from Agatha, his teeth gritted as he fought to regain control. A thrill of satisfaction and delight coursed through her, realizing she’d unraveled his cool, unshakable control to this point. He grabbed his cock, his fingers wrapping around the thick, throbbing shaft, and tilted his head back, his eyes closed as he tried to remaster himself.

“You did not attain pleasure like I did,” Agatha said, her voice husky, reaching out to glide her finger across his smooth crown.

Thomas’s throat worked on a tight swallow, and he stepped back. “It is not necessary,” he said, his voice strained.

Agatha performed a happy dance in her thoughts before delicately clearing her throat. “Why?” she pressed, her eyes never leaving his face, searching for answers in the carnal lines of his expression.

“The best way to master oneself is through denial or …”

“Or you might do more than you want,” she said softly, “like thoroughly ravish me.”

“Yes,” he said, his grip tightening around his cock.

I want you, too , she silently cried, her heart aching. “I want to see your release. What is it like?”

Thomas lifted a brow.

“You have seen my release, and I have not seen yours. You’ve mentioned that men and women self-pleasure. Show me.”

His mouth quirked, and he moved to the chaise, sprawling on it like an emperor, his body a study in raw, primal beauty. Agatha’s breath caught in her throat as she watched him. He clasped his thick stalk, his hand moving with a practiced rhythm, his eyes half-closed as he held her stare.

Agatha’s heart pounded. She had never seen anything so beautiful, and the sight of him, so unguarded, pierced her chest with that sweet, almost frightening emotion. His face was a harsh but sensual grimace of lust.

“Thomas,” she softly said, “You look … magnificent.”

Agatha could feel the heat of his desire, the raw, unbridled passion that seemed to pulse through the room, drawing her in, making her want to reach out and touch him, to feel the heat of his skin against hers. Still on her knees, she glided forward, her gaze locked on his. With a flicker of her tongue, she traced over the sensitive, flared head of his cock, watching his reaction. Thomas groaned, his head falling back as he continued to stroke himself, his body arching.

“Do it again,” he murmured, his voice thick with desire.

This time she sucked, raking her teeth on the underside before releasing him from her lips.

“ Fuck! ”

He jerked his hands twice, and he reached his climax with his body tense and muscles straining. Thomas’s low, guttural sound of pleasure skated over her skin, igniting a heat deep in her belly that pulsed with a fierce, undeniable desire.

Agatha rose and crossed to the mantle, pouring whisky into two glasses. She handed him one, then settled at the opposite end of the chaise, acutely aware of her nakedness and that she wore only stockings, garters, and dancing slippers. She enjoyed the appreciative gleam in his gaze, even as a faint blush warmed her skin. Curling one leg beneath her, she brought the glass to her lips, savoring a sip.

“Thomas.”

His gaze collided with hers. “Hmm?”

“Ellen … she mentioned that she had a lover who took pleasure in … her arse. From her experience, I presumed she couldn’t be mistaken. She implied that many gentlemen at Aphrodite look for a lover willing to …”

His eyes glinted with humor. “Yes. Your winner might desire to take you there.”

Her heart skipped a beat; the idea still left her breathless. “Will it hurt?”

“Yes.”

Startled, her eyes widened. “Is it also painful for the man?”

A deceptively sensual smile curved mouth. “No. But if he plays with your pussy, especially your clitoris, the pleasure can blend with the pain until they’re indistinguishable.”

“And … if he doesn’t?” she asked, fighting to keep her voice steady.

“Then you’ll bear the pain, and walking may be challenging for a few days.”

Goodness . “Would you … want that?”

A flicker of heat flashed in his gaze before he reined it in. “This isn’t about me, Agatha. I already told you I won’t be bidding.”

That heavy sensation once again pressed against her chest. “Are you certain you would not bid for me?”

His mouth lifted in a half-smile. “Yes.”

Agatha lowered her lashes for a moment, hoping to hide her disappointment. “Can I set this as a boundary?”

“Anything can be forbidden.”

“But … once again, making myself unavailable in that manner will deter some, won’t it? Considering Ellen’s words, it seemed all the men at Aphrodite … like that.”

“Yes. If they know even your arse is also untouched, it might drive the bidding higher,” he replied, his voice a husky drawl, eyes gleaming with an almost dangerous sensuality.

Awareness forcibly struck her heart. “You like it, don’t you? Taking a woman there …”

“It has its appeal.”

“Show me,” she murmured, sensing he enjoyed it more than he was letting on.

The glass lifting to his mouth froze. “What?”

She smirked, sensing she’d unsettled him. “I want you to use your fingers … let me experience it, just enough to understand. Once without teasing of my sex … and once with your touch on my clitoris. That way, I can decide whether it should be a boundary.”

“Lie on your belly on the chaise by the fire,” he murmured.

A tremor of nerves fluttered through her, but she rose from the sofa, steadying herself as she crossed the room. Agatha lay on her stomach across the plush, oversized chaise, feeling the luxurious softness cradling her body. The rich scent of lavender mingled with the earthy notes of Thomas’s rousing scent calmed and heightened her senses.

Agatha closed her eyes, breathing steadily. He positioned a cushion beneath her hips, creating a soft arch. She sank deeper into the anticipation of his touch.

Thomas’s warm and strong hands settled on her shoulders. The first press of his thumbs into her tense muscles made her exhale, and her body relaxed under the glide of his fingers.

She had not anticipated this. The lavender oil slicked her skin, making every movement fluid, his fingers kneading away any remnants of her tension. Agatha moaned,acutely aware of everything—the roughness of his palms against the softness of her skin, the way his breath fanned lightly against her neck, and the undeniable heat that radiated from his body so close to hers.

“Is this always a precursor to … arse play?” she murmured, her voice tinged with nerves and a hint of teasing.

Thomas’s low chuckle rippled over her senses, deep and intimate.

“No,” he said. “This is simply because you’ve been working hard. Madam Rebecca mentioned you’ve been practicing dancing for hours each day.”

A warmth spread through her chest, unexpected and achingly sweet. “It feels … glorious. Thank you.”

“There are no thanks needed between friends.” His hand trailed down her spine, igniting every inch of her skin he touched. “Did I not mention this before?”

She turned her head slightly, attempting to hide her smile. “Are you finally accepting that we’re friends?”

“Hmm.” He paused as if mulling over the word, his fingers brushing in light circles against her lower back. “A novelty for me, but I like you, Agatha.”

Her heart stuttered, his words settling deeper than she’d anticipated. She lowered her gaze, whispering, “I like you, too.”

He worked his way down her back in slow, unhurried strokes, his hands skilled in coaxing out any resistance. Every touch evoked a surge of warmth that blossomed low in her belly. His strong and confident hands skimmed over her thighs, tracing their outer curves, lingeringas if memorizing her. When he reached the curve of her lower back, his palms smoothed over her hips, and a thrill sparked through her.

Agatha’s fingers clenched slightly against the cushion as he moved to massage her buttocks, his touch firm yet somehow reverent. He lowered his head, his breath hot against her skin, and bit gently into the swell of one buttock cheek. The sensation sent a jolt of pleasure through her, and a low groan escaped her lips before she could suppress it. Her skin tingled, every nerve alive under his mouth and hands.

“Do you enjoy this?”

Her answer came as a soft hum, an involuntary arch of her back pressing her closer to his touch. The feel of him so close was intoxicating. Every brush of his fingers, every press of his palm, seemed to reach inside her, leaving her senses heightened, raw, and wanting.

Thomas’s oiled fingers brushed her shoulders, gliding smoothly down her back with gentle, deliberate pressure, tracing the curve of her spine. She could feel every precise touch, each stroke heightening her awareness of him. Agatha wasn’t just aware of him—she was consumed.

“Are you ready?” His voice was a low murmur, gentle and reassuring, wrapping around her like warmth itself.

Agatha nodded, her pulse racing, excitement and curiosity threading through her. She trusted him with her body. When his fingers reached the cleft of her derriere, he pressed his lips to her shoulder, his kiss lingering, soft and slow. Agatha’s breath hitched, and her belly tightened. A single oiled finger slid into her arse, and she gasped at the sting.

“Relax,” he murmured, his voice a soothing balm. “Let yourself feel every moment.”

He moved his finger, working it deeper until she melted beneath his touch. Just as her breath steadied, he leaned forward, his mouth brushing over her lower back, his teeth grazing the globe of her arse, gentle but possessive.

Soon, another finger joined the first, and a gasp escaped her, sharp and unbidden, fire searing her back entrance. “Thomas,” she cried, gripping the cushion. “It hurts.”

“I know.”

A whimper escaped her when he started to work his fingers deeper, stretching those unused muscles.

“My cock ismuch thicker than these two fingers,” he said. “A considerate lover will prepare and liberally oil you to take him. It will still hurt.”

His voice was a low murmur, rich with carnality and something darker. Thomas’s thrust was steady and deep, and she couldn’t help the sob that whispered from her. Perspiration beaded on her shoulders andtrickled over her neck, between her breasts.

“Thomas?”

“Reach under your body and play with your pussy for me.”

Agatha arched slightly, the move impaling his fingers deeper. She slipped her hand between the tight fit of her body and the chaise, desperately reaching for her sex. She rubbed her fingers over her clitoris, and it felt as if lightning struck her.

Oh!

“Good?” he whispered, his voice thick and slightly husky.

She turned her head to look at him, her face flushed, eyes heavy with arousal. “Yes … so good,” she breathed, her voice a tremor of pleasure and need, eagerly reaching for the sparks of pleasure now cracking through her body, drowning out the pain in her rear.

Agatha felt herself arching, wordlessly asking for more. A smile played at the corner of his lips as his fingers pressed deeper and more firmly. Agatha surrendered to the erotic pleasure-pain, her heart pounding as he explored her in ways that unraveled her completely. Her fingers worked her clitoris in time with his strokes until she writhed with the need to release.

“ Thomas! ” she screamed his name into the cushion when he slipped in a third finger.

She pressed down hard on her nub, and heat bloomed through her body, the flood of ecstasy so intense it bordered on pain. Agatha’s body turned pliant, and she turned her head to weakly look at him. His manhood was once again hard, but Thomas ignored his arousal, gently removed his fingers and walked toward the bath chamber. She closed her eyes, exhaustion pulling her under. Something cool touched her flesh, and she opened her eyes.

He used a wet washcloth to clean her body gently. A lump formed in her throat as she stared at him. He finished cleaning her and went to his bath chamber for a few minutes before returning. Thomas lay down behind herandcurved her into his side. She was left breathless when he pulled her closer, his mouth capturing hers in a lingering kiss.

This is not a lesson …

The temptation to curl into his chest was almost overpowering. He would hold her, and she could sleep warmly and safely in his arms. She had never felt that way with anyone before. Thomas had the potential to make her want the things she’d convinced herself she could live without. This man made her feel with such intensity that Agatha never dreamed was possible.

The realization was terrifying.

She had never fallen in love, but that did not diminish her conviction that she was tumbling headlong into love with Thomas.