Mastering The Marquess (Bound and Determined #1)(121)

Keeping his gaze locked with hers, he trailed his fingers down her breasts, across the gently curved belly, until he was stroking the top of her curls. Her body shivered and shuddered at his touch. He twined his fingers in the soft hair and tugged gently. “You want more? I see it in your eyes. Should I reward you for not talking? For resting those sweet lips? I rather think I should. I may believe in punishment, but I also believe in reward.”

Tugging softly upon the dark curls, he worked his fingers lower, then swept them down her thighs, spreading the rest of the musky oil. He reached back to the table and took the jar again, dribbling oil across her belly and trailing it down to her cleft. He watched as the thin stream bathed her, her flesh glistening as never before.

Again he was reminded of that first night, of seeing her spread before him on Ruby’s bed, of dreaming of ties—ties like the ones that now held her. He’d first tasted her that night also.

His mouth felt dry as he gazed at her, the pink flesh peeking from the dark hair. He licked his lips, and placed one hand upon each spread thigh, his thumbs grazing the edges of her cunny, playing with that most tender skin. He moved his thumbs back and forth, reveling in her every twitch and moan. Massaging the sensitive joining of leg and torso, he teased her, moving closer to her desire and then away. He stopped and reached to the side, lifting the heavy candleholder. He brought it forward until she was fully illuminated. He wanted to see her, to see her every secret.

Her whole body tensed.

“Has somebody been telling you things, explaining things?” he growled, seeing her wide eyes and curiosity.

“Yes.” She swallowed, her eyes on the candle.

“Who?”

“The Countess and Ruby,” she answered.

“You can discount everything the Countess told you. And as for anything Ruby said—I only want to see you, at least for now.”

Holding the candle near, he opened her with one hand, staring down at all that he dreamed of, shiny with oil and want. “I wish you could see how beautiful you are.” He lifted his head and stared into her eyes. “Did you ever use the mirror I gave you?”

“No.” It was hardly even a whisper.

“Should I punish you for that? For not obeying my simple order?” He deliberately harshened his voice, watching as another shiver of pleasure took her.

She bit down on her lip, not answering.

“I think I shall, but not tonight. Part of your punishment shall be the wondering. Tonight has been about pleasure, and we shall keep it that way. Not that your punishment is not pleasure—for both of us.”

Her inner muscles tighten at his words.

He ran a finger along the length of her cleft, stroking briefly over her hard pearl of nerves, but only long enough to tease. His fingers trembled with desire. Laughing inwardly at his own need, he brought the candle to his lips and blew it out, then set it aside.

Using both hands, he parted her nether lips wide and, watching her closely, brought his lips down to her clit, sucking delicately at the most sensitive spot. Her whole body jerked, and then her thighs grew tight, straining against the bonds as desire took her.

He sucked harder, drawing the nub into his mouth, feeling her craving grow, her need become endless. He nipped gently with his teeth, then laved again. A series of soft cries left her lips. Using his tongue, he swept down her length, delving deep into her. Her cries increased, her legs attempting to tighten about his head, the tight restraints holding them back, restraining her for his pleasure.

He teased her further, playing and nipping, using all his skills to drive her to the brink and hold her there. She was ready to come apart, but he did not let her, pulling back each time he felt her tension grow, felt the tiny ripples that could grow to waves.

“Do not come until I tell you to,” he growled, feeling half-animal, his own needs growing along with hers. He had to end this soon.

He sucked her deep into his mouth, his tongue lapping at her honey. Faster, faster he pushed the pace, until he felt her whole body rise toward him, and then nipping with just the right pressure upon her clit, he pushed three fingers deep within her, finding that soft spongy spot with practiced care. His fingers pressed it hard, plunging and stroking.

“Now,” he commanded.

She exploded about him. Even stretched tight upon his bed, her body lifted and tugged, her moans filling the chamber. Her inner muscles clenched about his fingers, milking them. God, he wished it were his cock they were sucking upon.

“Geoffrey,” she cried as he felt her muscles tighten—again and then again.

He pulled back, thrust again.

Her head thrashed upon the bed.

And then the storm was over. Her body fell back upon the bed, her head relaxing to the side.

He waited a moment, then slipped his fingers free, lifting them so he could inhale her scent.

His body jerked in response. She might be finished, but he was not.

He reached down and released himself, his cock springing free.

All night he had waited for this, and finally it was time.

He raised his eyes and found her watching him, an easy grin spread about her face.

“Now,” she whispered.



It was impossible to move; her every muscle felt heavy and tired. And yet, as Louisa lifted her eyes and gazed at her husband, watched as his cock burst forward, ready to greet her, she felt need again curl in her belly.