Page 13 of Not His Usual Style (Diamonds of London #10)
Over and over, he worked that tiny bundle of nerves, and when she couldn’t hold back a moan, he grinned. “What was that?”
“Do hush,” she managed to gasp out and curled the fingers of one hand around his nape. How was it that he had nearly sent her over that edge into bliss with hardly a touch? “Yet you didn’t ask permission.”
Suprise went through his expression. “ Do I have your permission to do unspeakable things to you?”
At least he remembered that he was, indeed, a gentleman even if this was so very wrong and a betrayal of his engagement.
Tori met his gaze, caught the knowing light in those dark depths, and heat stung her cheeks.
“It’s not a crime to enjoy such a thing.
” And she wouldn’t go to her grave never knowing the touch of a man beyond kissing.
“Good.” Then he gripped her thighs and splayed her open. “Damn, I thought your breasts perfection, but this is even more so.”
Anticipation battled with anxiety in her belly. “You plan to put your mouth on me… there ?” Tori buried the fingers of one hand into his hair, and oh it was thick and luxurious.
“Oh, yes.”
“But, I—” Her voice cut off in a squeak as he put his mouth to her button.
He chuckled and the vibrations sent her into another level of delight and wonder. “A wonderful way to interrupt your damn flow of words.”
“Dear God.” From the moment he employed his lips and hot tongue to her most sensitive, private parts, Tori slowly lost the last vestiges of her sanity.
“This… You…” She couldn’t catch her breath, for with each nibble, every nip, all the swipes and strokes of his tongue, she was hurled higher and higher into pleasure, into a world she was unfamiliar with and had never known existed, especially like this.
Wild sensation coursed through her body.
Tears unashamedly fell to her cheeks for everything was too big, too much, too overwhelming.
Never once did the earl shy away from his work.
He was a man bent on tossing her over the edge, and she hovered there, trapped, waiting with a frantic heartbeat for him to give her up into that dark void.
But he didn’t. Not even when she begged him. Repeatedly. “Greystone… Montague, please leave off! I can’t survive this!”
The dratted man kept her poised on the razor’s edge, pinning her there again with every penetrating stroke of his tongue, each calculated nibble, every new torment of suction on that swollen button until she squirmed on that sofa and prayed for some sort of relief.
She curled her hand into his hair alternately to shove him away and cease the exquisite torment, but also to hold him to her tighter, guide him to exactly where she needed him.
“Oh, oh, oh…” Her body shook; the relentless pressure in her lower belly built and coiled. Fearing she would break apart, Tori squirmed, but he gripped her thighs tighter to keep her in place. Would his fingers leave marks on her like this intimacy would leave impressions on her soul?
When he chuckled against her flesh, it was almost the end of her, but he kept on as if he were naught but a rogue.
“Montague!” Tears of wonder rolled down her cheeks. Her back arched of its own accord, which put her deeper into his care. “I am going to break.”
“That is the purpose of this exercise.” Then he followed the comment with a particularly strong bit of suction.
“Ah!” The dam holding back the mounting pressure within broke.
She shattered in spectacular fashion, fell into that black void full of the most wonderful bliss as her inner walls convulsed with a violent release—her first. A half-muffled scream left her throat, for it was so incredibly glorious.
Not having any more strength, she collapsed against the back of the sofa while her heartbeat galloped and her breathing shallowed.
“I thought you gorgeous before but after seeing you in the grips of an orgasm, you are beyond ethereal and made for sin, I’ll wager.” As he spoke, the earl stood. He removed a handkerchief from his coat pocket and wiped his mouth and cheeks.
The compliment sent another round of tiny fires through her blood.
“Thank you.” For long moments, she enjoyed the after-effects from being thoroughly compromised then she roused herself and began to put her clothing to rights.
“That was beyond interesting.” And she couldn’t believe how quickly it had happened.
A flash of guilt went over his face. “I apologize for acting like a beast.” Without waiting for a response, the earl moved across the room to her father’s sideboard and liquor collection. “That wasn’t like me…”
“Think nothing of it, Grey. It was a lovely interlude.” Once her clothing was back in place, Tori rearranged herself on the sofa, leaned her head against the high back, and then closed her eyes, for it had been an extremely full and intriguing evening.
“I appreciate the new experience.” And would probably dream of it—and him—for many nights to come.
The clink of crystal against crystal echoed in the air as he poured out a drink. “It can’t happen again,” he said in a soft voice as if he was trying to remind himself of that fact.
“Of course not,” she said in response. “Take that vigor and apply it to your fiancée, Grey.”
“It wouldn’t make a difference. My relationship with Sarah is naught but a business transaction, arranged by our fathers.”
“She might change her mind about you, and will be a fortunate woman indeed.” Her words trailed off and she couldn’t remember the original subject matter.
With a sigh, she let herself drift off into a light doze.
The poor man. He deserved so much more than what life had given him.
Sadness for him welled in her chest, but then sleep claimed her, and in her dreams, she could make certain he had the life he would need.
All thoughts of the Marie Antionette necklace were temporarily forgotten.