Scandalous Desires (Maiden Lane #3)(80)

He groaned at her look. “I’ll let ye pet and play all ye want—after. Now I need”—he pushed her chemise to her waist, parted her thighs, and settled between them—“to be inside ye.”

There was a flag of red in his cheeks and his mouth had turned dangerous. She could feel his hard cock prodding insistently against her thigh.

He reached between them and touched her, probing and parting her folds. Her eyes widened, watching him as he watched her and touched her where no one else had put a hand save she herself. Her face was hot, she wanted to look away, and she knew she was already embarrassingly, naively moist. Was this what sophisticates did in the bedchamber? She had certainly never done this in her marriage. Did his other women take this type of touch in stride, perhaps with a knowing smile?

The thought of his other women made her mouth tremble and he misunderstood.

“Have I hurt ye?” he asked, his voice like gravel.

He took his hand away and turned with her so that all at once she found herself laying on top of him, her face only inches from his.

He scowled at her. “Ye must tell me if I’m too rough, if I hurt ye. Damn it! I had no intention o’ causin’ ye pain, m’love.”

“Shh!” She pressed her palm to his mouth to stop the fast, angry voice. “You did not hurt me.”

“Then why did ye frown?” he demanded.

“I…” She lowered her gaze. How could she be having this conversation? She with her chemise rucked up, her wet sex against his hairy thigh and his erection still pressed to her belly? This was a mad dream.

“I’m not used to this sort of lovemaking,” she said in a rush before she could think better of the words.

He was quiet for a moment. Then she felt his hand on her chin as he tilted up her head to meet her eyes. His mouth was still hard and dangerous, his face drawn into even more severe lines if that were possible, but his words were quiet if not soft. “Forgive me for a thoughtless lout. Truth be told, I’m not exactly used to this kind o’ bedsport, either.”

Her brows drew together. He’d had many lovers. “But—”

“Hush.” He placed his own far bigger palm over her mouth. “Let me…”

He gripped her bottom with one hand and drew her legs up on either side of his hips, spreading them wide. In this position his cock was pressed intimately against her folds.

“Oh!” Her exclamation was muffled behind his hand, but since her mouth was open anyway, she stuck the tip of her tongue out and tasted him.

He hissed. “Brat.”

She wasn’t entirely sure, but she thought that might be a compliment.

He took his hand away and caught her hips in both hands, arching beneath her. The movement drove his cock over her, rubbing the peak of her sex.

The sensation was exquisite and before she could control herself she’d made a needy, moaning sound.

He grinned, though his face was strained. “That’s it, love. Use me to make yerself feel good.”

She flushed. Surely he didn’t mean—?

But he moved again and she lost all thought. He was driving her wild, driving her into some kind of madness. He helped her to sit up and brace her hands on his chest and she found herself moving against him in a sensual haze. His big penis was against her folds, slick with her wetness, and he moved deliberately, knowingly, making her excitement spiral higher. Surely this wasn’t right. It must be some sort of sin for it to feel this good, but at the moment she simply didn’t care. She bit her lip and ground against him as he held her bottom in his hot hands, and—

And suddenly she was there, racing past the point, flying with dizzying speed. She gasped, her head falling forward, her body convulsing once, twice, three times in quick succession with impossible pleasure.

She opened her eyes, dazed, and saw him watching her with the most satisfied male look she’d ever seen. But his mouth was drawn as well and she realized that his swollen cock was still ragingly hard between her folds.

Sweat was beaded on his upper lip. “My turn.” He lifted her and grunted. “Put me there.”

Her eyes widened and she reached between them. He was hot and wet with her moisture and he was also so very large. She took one look at his face and knew she must at least try though. She moved him, brushing the head of his penis through her sex.

They both gasped.

She found the right spot and guided him before letting go.

He groaned, loud and male, his eyes turned to feral slits.

She swallowed and tilted her hips, feeling the head of his cock breech her. There was no pain, but she felt a stretching at her opening.

“Michael!” she panted.

“Jaysus,” he breathed. His head was arched back, his neck taut with strain.

She bore down, swiveling her hips a little.

He closed his eyes, his mouth open, his nostrils flared.

She pulled back just a fraction and he flinched and flexed his hands on her bottom. She hastily came back down again, watching him as another inch of his length entered her. He looked almost like he was in pain and she felt a sudden power—only she could ease this ache he felt.

She leaned down and brushed her lips gently over his jaw, pushing back with her bottom, taking more of him within her body.

He whispered something under his breath and she sat back, bearing down, gasping, taking the entire length of his cock. She felt stuffed full, her tissues stretched wide over the base of him. He was still, panting, groaning every now and then, his hands twitching convulsively on her buttocks.