Page 20 of Lady Farah Creates a Scandal (The Season of Secrets #2)

His mouth, hot and moist, licked the space between her breasts, sending heat searing to her very core.

Farah gripped his shoulders as he licked and kissed, whipping her into a frenzy.

When his delicious mouth grazed one jutting nipple, she arched more.

He parted his lips and took the puckering bud into his hot, wet mouth, and she arched off the floor.

Nothing had ever felt this amazing. The pleasure was almost more than she could bear. Every nerve ending screamed for more.

Turbulent emotions came bubbling to the fore. All her feminine instincts took over, and she found the courage to slide her hands over the skin she’d been hungering to explore. It was firm, hard, yet sensual.

She was conscious of his hand sliding lower. Rockwell flicked his tongue over her nipple and then drew it fully into his mouth. He sucked at her breast while cradling her mound in his palm. She didn’t want to stop him.

But he broke away from her, leaving her bereft. Her breasts felt raw and ravished by his delicious ministrations. He couldn’t leave her like this and she gasped into the air, about to protest. She yearned for his lips and hands on other parts of her, too.

As if sensing her every desire, he picked her up and placed her on the bed. He came over her and let her nipple slip between his teeth and turned his ravenous attention to her belly.

Hot lips pressed a trail against her taut skin, over her hips and down her thigh, branding her in the most wicked way.

Her entire body trembled with the knowledge of what was to come—hoped was to come.

She knew where this would end, and she couldn’t regret it.

Her legs parted to make his access easier—faster.

She dragged in a deep breath as his hand went between her thighs, burning her skin.

“I want to imprint the taste of you on my brain,” he ground out, his voice rough and turbulent, the tension of his restraint evident.

He parted her legs farther, the flesh tingling and exposed to him. He needed no encouragement to take eager advantage.

His fingers parting the curls at her junction, Rockwell, holding her gaze, lowered his head. The heat in his eyes blazed, and she closed hers at his first lick. Oh, God.

She arched and cried out as his hot, slick tongue lapped the sensitive area. Her fingers curled in the quilt, and she let out a deep and guttural groan as pleasure so intense—soul-wringing pleasure—raced over her.

His tongue moved over her dewy folds of flesh, softly, almost reverently, then flicked the tip of his clever tongue over the delicate hardened nub, causing her to sob and cry out. “Oh, Rockwell.”

His lips kissed through her folds expertly in fluid strokes, stirring a welter of emotions in her belly, making her thighs flex and her hips lift in unrestrained longing.

A tight bolt of lightning unfurled in her stomach, and she couldn’t help grinding herself against him.

His tongue stroked faster, and just when she couldn’t stand another second, he plunged his tongue deep inside her and she shattered.

Shooting stars clouded her mind, and she floated in a haze of sensation.

When she finally brought her emotions under control, it was to find him leaning over her, his eyes stormy, dark and smoldering. She shivered at the intensity reflected in the deep chocolate pools.

“That was beautiful,” he said. And he kissed her. She could taste herself and her desire to taste him grew.

“I’ll never forget… never.” She reached down and found his straining cock. “Can I do the same to you?”

In answer, he rolled onto his back and put his hands behind his head. “I’m all yours.” Her heart stilled because he really wasn’t. Rockwell would never be hers.

He gave a groan against her lips as she moved her hips, running her wet womanhood up and down the length of him. He could go insane if she didn’t taste him soon. He couldn’t wait to feel her hot mouth upon him.

Desire dissolved in his blood and spread through his veins, more potent than the brandy he’d been drinking on the Doreen . He wanted her. Wanted her as much as he did the first day he’d seen her in his Hessian, but she could never be his. He would only hurt her.

She pulled back and kissed down his neck, and he could not take his eyes off her. She paid special attention to his chest, nibbling on his hard nipples, causing his hips to lift. “God, this is good.”

Her lips teased his senses, her hands slid down to stroke him, and his breath hissed from between his clenched teeth.

She ran her nose over his skin. “I love the scent of you,” she whispered against his chest. His blood pounded as she trailed those sensual, teasing lips downward toward his groin.

When she finally took him in her mouth, his hips left the bed.

His deep moan filled the room. For someone who had never done this before, she had good instincts.

She gave so much pleasure. He closed his eyes and thanked God she was here with him, in this moment. The way she used her tongue, the way her hands cupped his sacs, and the sound of her mouth working him made him almost explode.

He loved to watch. But nothing prepared him for the hit of desire he got from watching her pleasure him. As she licked and suckled, taking him deep within her mouth, his eyes were locked on her face.

She could tell he was watching her. His eyes burned into her.

Farah loved taking him deep into her mouth.

Loved his reaction as he watched her possess him.

Watching his features harden into a mask of passion.

She’d never felt so powerful. The cords of his neck tightened, and his hands wound into her hair.

His mouth opened. His breath became ragged.

His hips rocked, pushing him farther, deeper, into her mouth.

He was about to come. His eyes closed, and his head fell back.

His hands dug into her scalp and his whole body trembled.

“Farah. Christ. How I love what you do to me.” And then, with a series of jerks and a roar, he flooded her mouth with the very essence of him.

She drank him down, not letting him slip from between her lips until she had licked every last drop.

She crawled back up his body, showering his chest with little kisses. His skin was damp and his breathing was still erratic. She lay on top of him, savoring the feel of him beneath her.

The fire had burned low and as they lay there, she shivered. Rockwell stirred and pulled back the covers and she crawled under them. He tucked her in but didn’t join her.

“I think it best I leave.”

She wanted to beg him to stay, but knew it had to be this way. “I regret nothing.”

“Neither do I.” He hesitated. “Maybe I do. I regret I can’t be the man you need.”

With that, he kissed her one last time, collected his clothes and left.

Though she tried not to, she cried herself to sleep.