Page 33 of The Bastard Heir (The Gilded West #2)

His tongue flicked over her again, nearly drawing her out of her skin.

Her body clenched and unclenched, desperate for something to ease the ache he’d caused.

And he did heed her whispered cries. As he went back to laving her, one broad finger slipped deep inside her.

It was just enough and not nearly enough all at the same time.

She arched toward his touch and he withdrew only to drive back into her and suck all at the same time, creating an amazing friction that promised release.

Her entire world narrowed to him and his touch on her body.

Then he curled his fingers upward, the rough pads of his fingers working against a particularly sensitive place inside her.

The pleasure was so intense, she bit her lip to keep from crying out.

He groaned, a soft vibration of sound that reverberated through her.

He was enjoying this. The frenzy of her pleasure that had her twisting against him made him happy.

Her heels pushed against the mattress and his teeth grazed her throbbing flesh.

A spark to ignite her into flames. A tiny wave of pleasure crested, followed quickly by another larger one.

His tongue stroked her, building her up higher, until her whole body trembled and waves of ecstasy crashed over her, breaking her open.

He rode them out with her until the intensity eased.

Soft waves were still crashing over her when he climbed up her body to lay fully on top of her, catching her mouth in a deep kiss.

She could taste her release on him and found it oddly appealing that they’d shared something so intimate.

It only made her want to share so many other things with him.

Wrapping her arms around him, she relished the silk of the warm skin of his back before moving down to cup his buttocks through his trousers.

He groaned and flexed his hips into her.

She gasped at how good it felt when his hardness pressed against her sensitive sex.

He’d only just brought her more pleasure than she’d imagined was possible and she already craved more.

“Carolina,” he whispered her name over and over as he kissed from her mouth to her ear.

Without waiting for permission, she moved her hand between them, stroking him through his trousers. He gasped against her ear. “I want to touch you,” she said, already working the fastenings so he couldn’t let some misplaced sense of duty to her honor make him tell her to stop.

“You should not,” he said against her neck, but he made no attempt to stop her. In fact, he raised his hips a little so she could slip her hand inside and grip him.

“Oh, Castillo.” He was bigger than she’d thought. She’d felt him through his clothes, but having him in her hand offered her an entirely new perspective. “You’re bigger than I expected.” His response was to bite her neck, an action that was about a hundred times more pleasant than it was painful.

Testing the size and shape of his erection, she stroked the length of him with her palm.

“Is it okay if I squeeze?” A strangled groan was his only response, so she gently squeezed her hand around him, testing his hardness.

When she slackened her hold, his hips pressed forward in what felt like an involuntary thrust into her palm.

“You’re so much harder than I thought you would be. ”

He groaned out her name, thrusting again, and she flexed around him.

She wasn’t certain if that meant she’d gripped him too hard or not, but he rose to look down at her.

“We should stop before I come.” He didn’t seem inclined to remove himself from her hand, though, and the slight distance was enough that she could look down and see his hard length in her hand.

“I want you to.” She couldn’t see him as clearly as she wanted. She longed to have the time to explore him, but it had to be almost morning by now and they’d already stolen too much time. “Please, Castillo? Please let me help you?”

He shook his head. “It’s not right.”

“How is it different than what you did for me? I could put my mouth on you—”

He groaned, almost like he was in pain, and covered her mouth with his before she could finish. Then he drew back just enough to whisper against her lips. “It’s not the same. I’m not an innocent. I shouldn’t have done that. I shouldn’t take that innocence from you.”

“You’re not taking anything. My innocence is mine to give to whomever I want. I want you, Castillo. I choose you.”

He mumbled something in Spanish and rolled over onto his back, taking her with him. “Only your hand,” he warned, and then covered her hand with his and showed her exactly how to stroke him.

It was fascinating watching the muscles of his body tense and flex as she pleasured him.

His hips pumped up from the bed as he thrust into her rhythm.

Unexpectedly, his palm found her bare breast and closed over it.

She leaned into his touch, her body still alive with need, but this was about him.

It was only a moment before his body started to tighten, and he gritted his teeth against the coming wave of pleasure.

He groaned her name, his eyes squeezed shut, and then his release warmed her palm.

She hardly had a chance to savor the moment of satisfaction, because he tumbled her onto her back, one hand in her hair as he kissed her breathless.