Her Reformed Rake (Wicked Husbands #3)(54)

He sank to his knees on the soft carpet, ignoring the startled sound she made, and urged her legs apart. “Open for me, darling?”

He had seen her before, had tended to her intimately on their first night. But this was different, in the undeniable daylight of his study, in the midst of the afternoon, and he was intending to dance a different sort of attendance upon her.

She hesitated only a moment before giving in to him, sliding her legs apart so that he could see the heart of her, as pink and beautiful as her full mouth and hard little nipples. He hummed with pleasure as he ran his hands along the soft expanses of her inner thighs and lowered his head.

His tongue traced over her pearl slowly, allowing her to get accustomed to him. One swipe, then another, and another. He ran circles over her, teasing and leisurely, listening for her intakes of breath, attuned to the tilt of her hips and the rocking of her body against his mouth as he learned what pleased her.

A lilting moan tore from her, and it was his name, and he felt it all the way to his cock. He sucked then, loving her on his tongue, in his mouth, and nipped her with his teeth. She tasted musky and sweet and like the affirmation, it seemed, of life itself. He ran his tongue over her seam, finding her wet and hot, and then let his tongue find its natural place inside her. He filled her as deeply as he could, thrusting, worshipping, claiming.

She surrounded him, enveloping him, her fingers in his hair, her cunny soft and wet and so bloody sweet he never wanted to stop. With one hand, he cupped her pert derriere, angling her against him to maximize his ability to pleasure her. His other hand splayed over her mound, his thumb finding her pearl with unerring accuracy. Again and again, he sank his tongue inside her as he worked her clitoris. Her cries of pleasure grew in crescendo, raining around him so that he was completely surrounded in nothing but Daisy. Her scent in his nostrils, her taste on his tongue, her moans in his ears, her slick flesh beneath his touch.

She was going to come. He sensed it, reveled in it as her body jerked into his with increased insistence until all at once, she was arching against him, trembling and crying out, her release liquid and sweeter than honey on his tongue. He lapped it up, his cock so hard he feared he wouldn’t even make it inside her before he lost himself.

Tearing his mouth away, he stood and in one swift motion, he pulled her from his desk and spun her around so that she faced it. He couldn’t look at her for one moment more. He’d never felt closer to another woman in his life. Had never wanted anyone the way he desired her. And yet everything was a lie. He was a lie. But as much as he couldn’t face her, he also couldn’t bear to let her go.

“Sebastian?” Her tone held a note of question.

“Hush,” he soothed into her ear before pressing kisses to her throat. He clamped his hands on the sweet curves of her waist and guided her forward, grinding his hips into hers from behind. “I’m going to make you fly again, buttercup.”

He hefted her skirts out of the way and tore open his trousers, pulling himself free of his smalls. He dipped his fingers into her silky heat and then smeared her wetness over his aching cock. One swift undulation of his hips brought him inside her.

“Oh,” Daisy said.

He kissed her ear, her throat, stilling though he was half certain stopping now would kill him. “Do you want me to continue, love?”

“Mmm,” she hummed, arching her back and bringing him even deeper inside her tight sheath. “Please.”

He didn’t need to hear it twice. Burying his face in her hair, he pounded into her. His fingers sank into her folds, finding her pearl. She met him thrust for thrust, her head back, her breath coming in pants as she cried out his name. She came before he did, tightening on his cock with so much force that he lost himself in the next instant, sliding home within her as he exploded.

There wasn’t time for him to withdraw, and in truth, he didn’t want to. He let out a hoarse cry of his own as her body milked him dry. Deep inside her, he came, filling her with his seed, sealing their fates.

She was his, and that was that.

He collapsed against her, kissing her throat, still inside her, and he had never known another experience in his life that had been as true and real. “My God, Daisy,” he rasped into her skin. “My God.”

There was nothing else he could say.





our Grace, there’s another delivery of books. Where would you prefer them to be placed?”

At the sound of Giles’ crisp, perfectly modulated voice, Daisy turned away from the wall of spines she’s been attempting to organize. His expression was placid, unflappable as always. If he thought it odd that his employer had purchased half a dozen crates of books for his new duchess, the butler didn’t show it for a moment.

“More books?” she repeated in question, though she needn’t have. The first delivery had come just after breakfast, followed by another and yet another. She should have expected that Sebastian wasn’t finished. That he executed this gift as he did all things, with a complete disregard for half measure. “You may as well send them up. What is it they say, Giles? In for a penny, in for a pound?”

But the staid butler didn’t answer. He bowed. “As Your Grace wishes.” And then he disappeared, leaving Daisy alone in a sea of books once more.

Alphabetize, or shelve the books according to subject matter? That had been the question troubling her the most until Giles’ return to the library. But given the number of deliveries they’d already received, another question was beginning to supersede. Where to put them all?