Page 20 of The Interdimensional Lord's Earthly Delight
She pushed his head lower and he obliged, withdrawing his cock witha succulent pop that almost made her regret her choice. The fiery trail of his mouth blazed over the soft mound of her belly to pause—more torture than teasing this time—above her widespread legs. The hot gust of his breath ruffled her pubes, and she keened in the back of her throat. He made a sound of smug satisfaction and crashed his mouth over her.
His tongue delved deep past her puffy foldsinto her core then lapped back to encircle her throbbing clit. Not poet, drummer, or linebacker, but an erotic calligrapher, spelling desire into her hidden depths.
Shouldering between her knees to splay her wide, he was merciless, and when she was shuddering helplessly, clamping her legs around him, he speared his fingers into her. With that one final touch, like a final exclamation point, hepushed her over the edge.
She jackknifed with a sharp cry, reaching for him, and he surged forward to replace his clever fingers with his thick cock. Her inner muscles convulsed around him as he pumped into her, and she realized hazily that he was already coming. At least she didn’t have to feel bad about orgasming first again…
They sprawled across the bed, their lower bodies still entwined.Leaving one hand centered on his sweat-misted chest, she let herself drift, eyes closed, while his pounding heartbeat slowed.
A whisper across her skin made her crack one eyelid, and she gave him a satisfied smile. As he finished tucking the sheet around them, he returned the smile.
“You shivered,” he said softly.
“Just…aftermath,” she said. “It’s all good.”
“Very good.” He smoothed a waywardcurl from her cheek. “I’m glad I found you tonight.”
“And the night before.” She stretched against him, luxuriating in the feel of his strong body against hers, the heft of flesh and muscle a more comforting bulk than all the pillows in the universe.
He rumbled low in his throat when she clenched around him. “My seeking steps brought me to you.”
“Sure, sure,” she murmured, distracted by theanswering flex of one particular muscle of his. “Are you…ready to go again?”
His lips curved wickedly. “It might take me longer this time.”
It did. And she didn’t mind.
When they collapsed again, they fell a little ways apart, and she wondered if his nerves were as overexcited as hers, every tiny hair on her body quivering and exhausted. His gusting sigh seemed to say as much.
Almost withouther permission, her hand slid across the tangled sheet to tuck under his. He twined his fingers through hers without opening his eyes. The second invocation, the Prayer of Eyes Meeting…
“You can stay tonight,” she whispered. “If you want.”
“Confession,” he whispered back. “I think you’d have to shovel me out if you wanted the bed to yourself.”
Maybe she should be mad at his presumption, butshe was feeling rather too pleased with herself to care. Excellent orgasms, a muscle-y, self-heating pillow, maybe even a date for the festivities when he wasn’t busy. She shouldn’t have been so quick to hate on this wedding madness.
He drew her closer, tucking her against his shoulder, and she relaxed with her own sigh.
He looked even better the next morning.
Any awkwardness she might’vefeared was erased with his waking kiss—not too early and not too much tongue, which would’ve gotten him kicked out of bed. He didn’t try to hold her back, just gave an appreciative grunt when she rose and sauntered to the bathroom.
She peered back at him before closing the privacy panel between them. “You can shower with me.”
He reclined back on the pillows, one arm crooked behind his head.Did every sexy male in the universe know that pose? His dark eyes gleamed. “Ifyouwant.”
She wanted.
It was too perfect, she thought dreamily as they dressed—he in his sonic-laundered white tunic and she, feeling pretty, in one of her best Thorkon gowns. She hadn’t wanted more than a couple of one-night stands and a few disastrous dating site let’s-do-coffees since her divorce, but maybe herlife was finally looking up.
Or sideways, or whatever.
While he was pulling on his boots at the door to the suite, she admired his backside. Linebacker, tight end, whatever. “Would you like to have breakfast with my friends?” she asked shyly. “Rayna said she hasn’t had a chance to meet you yet.”
He straightened. “I would enjoy that very much.” When she reached past him for the door, he snaggedher into his embrace. “Though perhaps not as much as I enjoyed you.”
She sagged contentedly into his arm as he kissed her—with plenty of tongue this time—and walking to the duke’s private dining room with her hand tucked into the crook of his elbow, she floated as if someone had stuffed anti-grav units into her slippers.