Page 16 of The Viscount, the Blacksmith, and the Lady

“Forgive me,” he whispered, though he knew not whether he sought forgiveness for what he was about to do or for wanting her so desperately that it bordered on madness.

And then he was inside her, sheathing himself fully with a single, potent thrust that tore a gasp from her lips. He paused, savoring the exquisite sensation of being enveloped by her, before setting a rhythm that was frenzied and passionate. Each movement was a claim, a declaration that she belonged to him, that no other man could possibly ignite her senses as he did now.

Simon’s hands roamed over her hips, gripping her firmly as he drove into her, each thrust punctuated by the soft sound of flesh meeting flesh. The intensity of the moment spiraled, wrapping them in a cocoon of pleasure so all-consuming that nothing else mattered.

He could feel the pressure building within him, a tidal wave of desire ready to crash over them both. His movements became less measured, more primal, as he sought to brand her with his touch, his passion, his very soul. And through it all, he wished for time to halt, for this stolen moment to last forever.

She breathed hard but didn’t sound like she was close to an orgasm, so he reached around and found her clitoris, which was as hard as his cock. He moaned at the feel beneath his stroking fingers, and she echoed the sound.

“Yes, that’s it, Xenia. You’re so wet. Feel my cock thrusting inside you, feel how much I desire you. This is all for you.”

Her back arched, and she flexed her hips to take him deeper. “Fuck me, Simon. Make me cry out in ecstasy.”

He growled and rocked harder against her, timing the flicks of his finger on her clitoris to match his thrusts. Her little cries, muffled as he imagined she must be biting her lip, rose in pitch and he felt her tighten around his length inside her.

He bent over her, pressing a kiss on her back. He was so close, about to shatter, but he needed her to finish first. It was all he could give her in the moment, the promise that her happiness was more important than his.

Spreading her wetness from where his erection entered her, he continued fingering her. Circling that sensitive bud, her answering pulsation around him was going to be his undoing. He straightened, looking down at the beauty that was his cock and her cunny together as one. Her tight opening above flexed, and his cock jumped.

How he wanted to take her there, but not tonight. Still, he brushed his thumb across the wrinkled flesh. Xenia cried out, her hips rocking, so he pressed there again. He spit on his fingers and spread the moisture on her skin, mixing with her juices, then pushed just the tip of a finger inside her.

Again she cried out wordlessly, so he kept it there as she pushed back on his cock, body shaking, muffled whimpers matching the thrusts of her hips.

Undone, Simon could only hold her hips in place and watch the erotic dance that milked him as he pumped into her. His release was unlike any he could recall, stealing all thought and leaving his body weak.

Without removing his finger from her bottom, he stroked the skin of her buttocks with his free hand as he grew soft inside her. His mouth was dry, and he needed a drink. He needed to kiss Xenia.

He needed to strip her bare in a well-lit room and make love to every inch of her.

As she sagged, breathing hard, he stepped back and cleaned her with his handkerchief. Unable to stop himself, he bent and kissed the tight opening that was still slightly spread from his entrance. She moaned and tipped herself up to him.

Chuckling, he patted her bottom. “No more tonight.” He lowered her gown.

Xenia straightened and turned to him, reaching her arms around his neck. “Soon, then?”

“Very soon.” He caught her shoulders and pulled her into a kiss that showed her everything else he wanted to do to her. With her. Without Owen, although including him occasionally was something he hoped to continue.

As he fastened his breeches, his eyes searched her face, laden with expectation. His heart pounded, not solely from the fervor of their tryst, but also hoping she would reveal a preference for him over Owen. However, she merely brushed a stray curl behind her ear and regarded him with an enigmatic smile that set his pulse racing anew.

“Let me walk you home.” He offered his arm. They walked in silence, and he wondered at her lack of giddy energy that she usually displayed. “What I did... is that acceptable?”

She squeezed his arm to her side. “I can’t imagine you doing anything that isn’t acceptable. Unless you wish to not pleasure me anymore.”

That was unlikely to happen, ever. Even if he couldn’t find a way to marry her, he’d want to make love to her. “Never fear. I don’t think I can ever have my fill of the sounds you make when I touch you. Especially there.” He broke his arm free of hers to squeeze her bottom, then continued to smooth his hand across one side, then the other.

He stopped himself before reaching between her legs again.

“I didn’t expect it. Owen touched me there, but not like you did,” she said.

“Would you like me to do so again? I can show you how much pleasure it can bring.”

“Oh, my.” She gnawed on her lower lip. “If I decide I don’t care for it, will you stop?”

The question hurt him. “Of course, I would. Any time you’re uncomfortable with the way I touch you, you must tell me. And if Owen doesn’t stop when you ask him to, you must tell me.”

He felt her relax. “Thank you. Then yes, Simon, I will enjoy learning what you can teach me.”

They arrived at her home, where movement and voices showed her mother had returned from the assembly. Simon wondered how long he’d kept her after they left the others. Her father wasn’t scouring the streets in search of him, so it must not have been too long.