The Gentleman Who Loved Me (Heart of Enquiry Book 6)(74)
~~~
“Oh, I can’t. Not again.”
Except for her pout, Primrose made the perfect Lady Godiva, he thought. In fact, he wanted to have her immortalized in paint, a portrait for his eyes only. He wanted to view Primrose this way whenever he wished: sitting astride him, her supple curves playing peek-a-boo through the shining curtain of her hair, her milky skin flushed and dewy from their lovemaking.
After her first incandescent climax, he’d taken her on the divan, first on her back and then, when she seemed ready for something more adventurous, he’d positioned her on all fours. She’d gotten over her shock quickly, purring when he entered her from behind. Her snug, eager pussy had tested the limits of his endurance. Through sheer force of will, he’d made sure that she came again before he did. And while he recovered, he’d fingered and licked her until she creamed upon his tongue once more.
Thus, he had ample evidence to support the fact that not only could Primrose come again, she would. And she was so full of passion that it wouldn’t take much. Christ, she was his match in every way—and he was one lucky bastard.
Now they were on the bed, he sitting against the headboard, she atop him.
“You can,” he told her.
To prove his point, he fisted his cock, running the burgeoned head against her damp and swollen petals until she sighed. Quickly donning a fresh French letter, he fitted his prick to her hole, yanking her down as he thrust up. They both moaned. Gripping her soft hips, he guided her up and down on his rod, her quim flowering around him, slathering him with slick honey.
“It’s too much,” she gasped.
“Ride me. You saw how it’s done.” Deliberately, he reminded her of what she’d glimpsed through the viewing hole… and groaned when his ploy worked, her pussy constricting helplessly. “Goddamn, you’re milking me like a fist.”
“That feels so… I can’t…” Panting, she strained to reach her summit.
He grabbed one of her hands, brought it to where their bodies joined.
“Rub your pearl, love.” He guided the motion with their twined fingers. “Make it nice and slick while you ride me.”
Whimpering, she did as he instructed, and, God, she was stunning. Her jade gaze swirling with gold, her slim fingers diddling herself as she impaled herself on his cock, she was desire incarnate. He couldn’t take his eyes off of her. She absorbed him completely, like no one else ever had or would. When she took him into her body, she took all of him—his cock, his mind… his heart.
Raw need pumped through him, pushing a spurt of preseed into the sheath. In that instant, he wanted to tear the bloody thing off, to have nothing between him and Primrose, to take her and take her until they came together. Until she was plowed full of his seed, dripping with it. Gritting his teeth, he held onto his sanity. He palmed her shoulder blades, pulling her toward him, altering the angle so that his cock drilled against her pearl.
Her entire body tautened… and then—bloody fuck. Her cunny convulsed around him, lightning-quick spasms that sucked the seed from his balls, forcing it up his shaft. He roared in ecstasy, his hips bucking as he shot stream after stream of hot spend into the sheep-gut barrier.
She collapsed atop him, boneless as a kitten. He held her close, his fingers tangling in her silken tresses. Unspoken words pounded in his heart, and he smothered them against her lips.
~~~
“Andrew, are you awake?” Rosie whispered.
“Hmm.” His voice rumbled beneath her ear; he definitely sounded drowsy.
After the exertions of the evening, she probably ought to let him rest. Cuddled atop his chest, watching the flickering fire in the hearth, she basked in the aftermath. Being with Andrew innervated her—made her feel content and limitless at the same time.
She rubbed her cheek against him, enjoying the light scratch of chest hair over hard, warm muscle. “Thank you for showing me this chamber.”
“Hmm hmm.”
“And for showing me that there’s nothing wrong with me or my desires.”
His hand ran lightly over her hair. “You’re a naturally sensual woman, Primrose—everything a man could desire. Why would you think there’s anything wrong with you?”
In her present relaxed state, it was so easy to share with him. “Because of the gossip about me. According to the ton, I’m a trollop.”
“The ton is made up of idiots and hypocrites.”
“Even if I’m not a trollop, I am a bastard. Even worse than that, I was…” She caught herself, just barely, a frisson of fear sizzling through her. Heavens, had she been about to blurt out a thought she hadn’t even allowed herself to think? Since Mama’s ugly revelation, she’d blocked the matter from her mind; she hadn’t permitted herself to consciously dwell upon it.
“What, love?” His hand continued its soothing stroke. “You can tell me.”
Could she? Could she trust him with the vile reality?
He gave her hair a gentle tug, and she lifted her head to meet his eyes.
“Tell me,” he said.
“Mama told me why Coyner took me as his ward.” The words tumbled from her lips. “It wasn’t because he wanted a daughter. He wanted... he wanted me for…”
She couldn’t make herself finish. Even if she could, she wouldn’t have been able to—for Andrew’s arms had tightened like steel bands around her, crushing her against him.