Page 11 of My Lady Rake
Heat flared out from his touch, her arousal flaming up again.
St. Ervan leaned in and drew the nearest nipple into his mouth, his teeth rough against her tender skin.
Verity fought the desire to selfishly lie back and enjoy what he did to her. She planned to give him as satisfying a ride as he’d given her, and that involved action on her part. She needed to hear his pleasure, watch him lose his polished perfection. With one of her arms trapped beneath him, she made do with the other. She shifted to her side, reaching down to run her fingers over his hip. Warm and firm, his flesh was smooth beneath her touch.
She stroked the rough hair of his thigh, then the curve of his ass. Continuing up his back she traced the knotted muscles, curling her hand around his shoulder before returning to his spine.
She felt a twitch against her thigh, as if certain parts begged for attention. Drawn to his hardness she took him in hand. His instant gasp had her insides clenching and quivering. She couldn’t recall when a man’s reactions to her made herwantso badly.
St. Ervan looked down at her, his face in shadow, and she tried to decipher his expression as she wrapped her fingers around the base of his penis and slowly drew up his length. His breath caught as she neared the tip. Damn, this was good. Had she really never paid attention to her lover before? The power was heady.
Verity loosened her grasp. She was ready to have him inside her but wanted to punish him for toying with her so long before giving her release. With a throaty laugh she pushed him onto his back. As she slowly crawled her way up his body, the tickle of his few chest hairs on her sensitive skin drove her insane. God, it was so good.
Holding his gaze, she smiled and licked her lips. His scent, more soap and skin than cologne, enveloped her. She felt so much more fully engaged with this man than she could remember feeling with others.
He growled and reached for her, but she laughed and sat across his hips. “It’s my turn, my lord.” She ground herself against him for emphasis. Inching backward, she enjoyed the sensations rather than focusing on the destination. That would happen, eventually. But not until she knew every freckle on his body.
St. Ervan moaned and thrust his hips up.
“Not yet.”
The need to kiss him again struck hard. Her tongue craved a dance with his. She pressed her open mouth to his, and when he drove his tongue into her, she pulled back teasing and sucking on his lower lip, then traced the outline of his mouth with her tongue.
Verity realized she was flirting, taunting him with a game of cat and mouse. What he wanted was what she wanted, but she was going to play hard to get until she couldn’t stand it anymore. This night was unlike any tryst she could recall. More than two bodies rubbing to completion. Had she really been that shallow with all the others?
Dragging her cheek across the roughness of his whiskers, she whispered in his ear. “Are you getting warm yet?” She stabbed the tip of her tongue in his ear then arched up to bring her breasts to his mouth. She teased him with one, then the other, laughing coyly when his lips reached to suck.
A different need was growing inside her. The opening he’d breached in the wall around her heart made room for emotions she’d forgotten. She didn’t just want his cock, she desired his heart.
Finally, he grabbed her rib cage and held her in place above him as he raised his mouth to her breast. He nipped and laved his tongue across to the other nipple to repeat.
Electric heat coursed from her breasts to her core and she cried out. “St. Ervan, I can’t wait.”
He lifted her and set her down over his hips, his body jerking beneath her.
She found his arousal, stroked his length, the flutter of his eyelids showing his pleasure. She was loving every second of this.
He sucked in air with a loud hiss. Rocked. Found her opening and plunged in.
She savored the fullness, rolled slightly in place before rising up. She tried to go slowly, tried to make the tension build but in the end, the heat was too much. Her breath came in whimpered gasps, their pitch rising as she neared her peak.
He growled beneath her. Clutched her hips.
Need continued to build until the dam inside her broke, and release coursed through her. “Oh, oh—” Her ears roared, for a moment the only sound she could hear.
St. Ervan growled again and held her still as his shudders rippled beneath her. When he finally relaxed, she lay across his chest. His arms cocooned around her and she sighed.
Savoring the unfamiliar feeling of comfort, Verity drew in a deep breath and rubbed her cheek against his nipple. She shifted slightly to lie at his side, head on his shoulder, one leg still curled over him. The bedding bunched at her waist where he’d pulled it after their breathing had slowed.
Her usual routine was to pick up her clothes and leave long before this point. Once her body cooled it was time to leave. Lying with a man in bed, listening to him breathe was too intimate. It gave too much of herself to stay. Promised things she wasn’t offering. Yet tonight she had no desire to move. She belonged right where she was, at this place, in this time.
Her eyelids grew heavy, and she melted against him, rocked by his steady breathing.
The warm, soothing stroke of St. Ervan’s hand on her shoulders pulled Verity back into the present, into her bed. “That was magnificent.”
St. Ervan brushed the hair back from her face with his free hand. “I knew it would be.”
Verity lifted her head. He rolled to face her, pulling the sheet out from between them and drawing her body against the length of him. The sunlight had shifted, lighting the spot where they lay.