A Daring Liaison(59)
“Charlie...Charlie...” she chanted, and each little entreaty spurred him on.
He laid her on the bed, pulled her slippers off and dropped them on the floor, then paused as he reached for her garters. Soft violet stockings that matched her gown were held up at midthigh by white satin garters and were so erotic that he decided to leave them.
He finished undressing himself, his gaze never leaving the sight of Georgiana, supine and stunning against pristine white sheets. Her eyes half closed, she licked her lips and crooked a knee to make a place for him between her legs. She could not have contrived to say anything so eloquent as that—the simple need to have him fill her and to kiss those lips.
But not yet.
“I want more from you than your acceptance this time,” he told her. “I want your participation.”
“Yes,” she purred. “Yes, yes...”
He lay down beside her, wondering how long he could maintain his self-control. Not long, he thought. But long enough to slow her down sufficiently to make it last. To make it memorable. There was a fine edge between release and completion, a matter of intensity, and he would teach her the differences and advantage of each.
Release first.
He knelt between her thighs, savoring the sight of her there, her olivine eyes glowing with unquenched passion. His. She smiled when she realized what he was doing—learning her, watching her, worshiping her. And she returned the favor, her eyes traveling down his chest to his shaft. Her eyes widened and he watched as she swallowed hard. His flesh tightened as his cock grew and twitched in response. Her breathing hitched and he eased himself downward until his mouth was level with those beckoning rosy buds. He flicked his thumbnails over them and she gasped. Slowly, he began to nibble at first one, then the other, until she crooked both knees to cradle him.
Reading that sign as readiness, he slipped one hand down to her core. Still nibbling her breasts, he stroked her, gathering her dew until his fingers slid easily into her. She moaned and her hips jerked upward. He could feel her internal quivering, and it only took a moment to bring her to a small orgasm. She twisted beneath him, panting, her chest heaving.
“That, sweet Georgie, was release,” he instructed.
“Oh!” She gulped. “Th-thank you.”
He chortled. “The pleasure was mine. And now for the rest.”
“Rest?”
He knew he’d only bought them a little time before the passion built to unbearable levels again. Though used to self-denial, he was not certain he could deny himself much longer.
He kissed his way downward, seeking her mound and the hidden nub with his lips and tongue while he spread her legs a bit wider to accommodate him there. He trailed his fingers down her inner thighs to the garters and stockings, reveling in the smooth heated silk so like her inner sheath. The comparison caused a wanting, an unrelenting need, that seized him, overpowering both reason and reluctance. He wanted Georgiana, and he would have her. Nothing on this earth would stop him. Ever.
He found her with his tongue and stroked deeply, drawing a surprised gasp from her. She tasted of sex and love, and her scent was an aphrodisiac to him. If he didn’t take her soon, he’d die of the pain.
Moments later her hands left his shoulders and gripped the bedposts so tightly her knuckles whitened. She began chanting his name again, this time with a hint of desperation. “Charlie...Charlie...help me, Charlie...”
Thank God. He rose above her, wanting to do this right. Wanting to give her the most intense pleasure of her life. She arched to him, her hands abandoning the bedposts for the less solid bulwark of his arms. “Now, Charlie. Please.”
Those words were piercingly sweet and utterly satisfying. She did not have to ask twice. He found her as surely as the stars point true north. Her thighs quivered as he entered her. She was heated and tight, her inner muscles gripping him in a snug velvet fist. He lifted and sank again, this time deeper. She fit herself to accommodate him again and again until she was writhing and keening as her inner muscles contracted rhythmically and tears trickled into the dark blond masses of hair beneath her.
And, at last, his control snapped. A kaleidoscope of rapture, pleasure and pain controlled him, overwhelmed him as he drove deeper into her one last time in a shattering finish unlike any he’d ever experienced.
When he was coherent again, when Georgiana’s eyes opened in sated wonder, he said, “And that, my love, was completion.”
* * *
Georgiana propped herself up against a mound of pillows and watched Charles dress. Broad chest, narrow hips and long legs all disappeared beneath proper clothing, but she would never look at him the same, clothed or not. She thought she’d always see him as he’d been last night—strong, confident, skilled and so very handsome. And so very...knowing. The dark shadow of his whiskers only added to his utterly masculine charm.