Page 18 of My Lady Rake

Her lips curled in a small smile. “Fuck me now St. Ervan.” The laugh that followed came from deep in her belly. Such a masculine thing for him to demand.

“Say my name,” he repeated.

“Your name is—" Realization struck her. “Oliver. Love me now, Oliver.”

“Yes, my love.” His cock hovered at her entrance. She spread herself wider trying to connect. Slowly, he pushed inside.

Her muscles tightened around him, sending her into the clouds, and she cried out. Waves of ecstasy rolled through her. Her muscles milked him and he swelled in response, thrusting deeper.

She clenched his shoulders and felt the bunched muscles of restrained power. Feral, animalistic strength moved beneath her hands. The tension in him matched her own as she came closer to shattering.

Verity rocked in time with him, taking him as far inside as she could. Her fingers tightened on his skin, and her head rolled back. So close. So wet. The slapping sounds and their mixed scents added to the sensations driving her. “Oh God…”

“That’s it,” he grunted. “Come with me. Let me feel it.”

He lifted her knees and pushed in, finding that spot that took her to the edge. Her insides clenched, and the knot released in ripples of pleasure that took away all thought.

She woke sometime later with St. Ervan lying across one of her legs, his arm pinning her to the bed. The weight of him was delicious. She sucked in a deep breath, enjoying the smells of their mutual sweat and other lusty fluids. She should feel the need to wash, to cover up, but the stickiness between her legs was proof of life.

Her new life.

CHAPTER8

Sometime later that night, as St. Ervan caught his breath on top of Verity yet again, he knew he must be too heavy but didn’t want to move. He took as much of his weight as possible on his elbows and continued to nuzzle her neck. After his second orgasm, he’d thought they were done, but tonight he was insatiable.

When Verity spoke his name it nearly destroyed him. He would never have enough of this woman. He knew damned well she had loved another man before him, that couldn’t be changed, but he’d begun to believe she might truly come to love him.

All of him, not just the pleasure he could give her.

She could easily have told him not to call on her again at any point after his party. Yet she lay beneath him, one hand plucking at locks of his hair. He nipped her earlobe. “You should sleep.”

“I sleep on my side. I can’t roll over. There’s this oppressive weight keeping me down.”

He shifted beside her and spooned against her backside when she curled.Oppressive weight. That described him perfectly. “Forgive me.”

“I can’t. Sometimes you pull out so fast I feel like I’ve got a disease or something. I like it when you want to stay inside me.”

“I always want to stay inside you. I just assumed that you like to breathe.”

As if in answer, she let out a deep sigh.

What was she thinking? He wished he had left the candle burning after their first round of lovemaking, so he could see her expression. “Are you okay?”

“Perfect.”

“You’re better than perfect,” he said. “And I owe you my thanks.”

She shifted her head on the pillow. “For what?”

“Letting me care for you.”

Her silence made him wonder if she’d fallen asleep. That was probably a good thing. He’d be less likely to say something stupid in the morning, after a good night’s sleep. Or a few hours’ worth, at least.

“I’m lucky to have you,” she said at last.

His throat tightened when he thought about how much he wanted to erase the pain Verity must have endured when her husband had died. Reaching up, he smoothed the hair off her forehead and planted a kiss there. “I’m the lucky one. You’re a bewitching woman.”

“I think you’re the one who bewitched me, Oliver. I wasn’t going to become attached to you no matter how much you enticed me with your wicked desires.” Her tongue swept over her lips as she smiled, and he nearly groaned with those desires.