Brazen and the Beast (The Bareknuckle Bastards #2)(88)

He lifted his head, finding her eyes as he found a spot she’d never discovered on her own. “Ahh,” he said. “Right there, isn’t it?” One of his long fingers slid deep inside her, his thumb swirling at the point where every bit of her pleasure had distilled. “So pretty and wet, my gorgeous girl,” he whispered, and she was lost to his low, lush words, pouring from him as she moved against him.

Her fingers wrapped tightly around his wrist. “Don’t stop.”

“Not for anything, love.” He leaned down and whispered in her ear, “I’ve never seen anything like you taking your pleasure. Like you riding my touch until you own it. It’s enough to put a man to his knees.”

She closed her eyes at the words, at the way they rioted through her, winding the spring tighter. “Please,” she panted.

“Once you’ve found it, I’m going to give it to you again.”

She clung to him. “Harder.”

He pressed more firmly, swirled in a tighter circle. “With my mouth . . .”

“Faster.”

Faster.

“More.”

More.

“And after my mouth . . . I’m going to make you come on my cock.”

“Oh, God,” she gasped. Pleasure slammed through her, nearly impossible to believe, and she was clinging to him, desperate for it to go on forever even as she begged for it to stop. He somehow knew what to do—stopping but not leaving her, pressing the heel of his palm tightly to the center of her pleasure as she went boneless beneath him.

He kissed her, long and slow as she returned to the moment, ending the caress in a delicious suck that had her sighing. “That was the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen,” he said, leaning down to suck one aching nipple.

She turned toward him, her fingers coming to play in his hair. “Thank you.”

He laughed against her skin, the breath of the sound sending a delicious shiver through her. “Don’t thank me, love. It was a fucking gift.”

She didn’t have time to blush at the foul language, as he began to move down her body, pressing kisses over her skin as he settled between her thighs. Hattie’s eyes opened. “You can’t—”

“Mmm,” he said, ignoring the words as he parted her folds, meeting her gaze over her body. “You cannot believe I would see you here, laid out for me like a banquet, and not want to feast. You cannot believe I would not feast for days.”

She caught her breath, the memory of the pleasure she’d experienced at his mouth impossible to ignore. “Yes,” she said, her hand sliding over his head.

His eyes went heavy with desire as she fisted her fingers in his hair.

She smiled. “You like that.”

He didn’t respond, instead setting his mouth to her, pressing his tongue into her softness in a long, lingering lick that had her serving herself to him. He groaned, settling in, savoring her taste, making love to her with slow, nearly unbearable strokes.

“Whit,” she whispered, writhing beneath him, pulling him tight to her, unable to stop herself as he found the aching point of her with long, slow, gentle licks that set her on fire. “More.”

She was greedy for him, for his touch, for his kiss as he grasped her bottom, lifting her up to his mouth. Her eyes opened, and she met his gaze over her body, the view of him, worshipping her, threatening to send her over the edge instantly. She started to close her eyes, and he shook his head, growling his insistence that she remain with him. And she did, forgetting what ladies were supposed to be, what virgins were supposed to be. Forgetting everything but him, here, with her.

She was writhing against him, unable to stop herself from moving, and he placed one hand, large and brown from the sun, against her belly, holding her still as he worked her—stealing her breath and her thought with his stunning kisses, over and over, again and again, faster and faster until—

She flew apart beneath him, unable to keep her eyes open, letting them slide shut as he growled his displeasure—but he didn’t stop. Glorious, magnificent man . . . he didn’t stop. Instead, he held her through the wild orgasm—like nothing she’d ever experienced. He’d somehow taken pure pleasure and distilled it further. Pleasure incarnate.

He guided her back to earth, as though he were there for nothing more than to keep her safe. And, for a mad moment, Hattie imagined what it would be like for this man to keep her safe, forever. For him to want her, forever. For him to love her, forever.

Impossible.

Tears sprang, and he lifted his head, the muscles of his shoulders and arms tensing as worry crossed his brow. “Hattie?” Her name was harsh on his lips. He leaned over her, one hand coming to cradle her face. “What’s wrong?”

She shook her head. “Nothing.”

He ran that hand down her body and back up. “Christ. Did I hurt you?”

She couldn’t help the laugh that came. “No. No,” she said. “No. My God, you made me feel—” The tears again, threatening. “Whit, you made me feel wonderful. So wonderful that . . . I wish—”

He didn’t seem to believe her. He was too focused on her face, his beautiful eyes tracking hers, seeing everything.

“I wish—” she tried again.

“Tell me,” he said softly. “Tell me what you wish.”