Mastering The Marquess (Bound and Determined #1)(122)
Her eyes fastened upon the heavy purple head, watched as the first drop of cum seeped to decorate its tip. Why was it so beautiful? Why did she want it so much?
She watched Geoffrey look at her, saw his desire as he looked at her legs, bound wide, awaiting him. The scent of her own need rose to her nostrils and she shifted her hips as much as the bonds allowed. She was beginning to ache, yet all she could think about was him, was the need to feel him in her, to feel him fill her.
Her breasts longed for his touch, his pinch. But the greedy core between her legs wanted more. It might have cried its pleasure a moment before, but now it wanted more. It wanted him.
Geoffrey stared down at the V of her legs and then up at her. “I will not be gentle. I should be, but I cannot be. I need you too much.”
“Then take me. Take all of me,” she gasped. It was more than a single word, but he did not seem to mind.
In an instant he was between her legs, his hand positioning himself at her entrance, pressing against her sensitive core—and then in a single thrust he was in, deep and hard, filling her completely until she did not know where she ended and he began.
It was not gentle. It was not kind.
But it was more, so much more.
Her head fell back. Cries, and sighs, and moans escaped her lips.
Muscles that a moment before had been exhausted now tightened and stretched, urging him on. But he needed no urging. He pounded into her hard and heavy.
His eyes were dark. The cords of his neck rose and strained; his hips pistoned; sweat glistened on his muscled chest.
And still her need grew and coiled again, tighter and tighter, her hips straining to rise beneath him.
She could feel it coming, feel it grow, her whole body centered on that ache and want.
Straining against her bonds, she fought to press back against him, to tilt and grind.
Her head thrashed from side to side.
She was there, almost there; but still it remained just out of reach.
And then he pulled fully out. Her body screamed in protest and need.
He plunged back, hard and deep. So deep. It was like being ripped in half.
She could not take this.
She could not.
It was all more than she could bear without bursting completely apart.
He pushed harder, grinding his hips into hers as if seeking to make the two of them one.
And then she felt it, first in him and then in herself.
The first pulse, the sudden clench, and then euphoria, God, the euphoria.
The world exploded. His name. Hers. Color. Blackness. And sensation, oh so much sensation. And it was Geoffrey. All Geoffrey.
Her lungs could not pull in air, her mind could not comprehend all that had happened, all that she felt.
Another explosion, another swirl. The world grew large and then collapsed into dark.
When she came to, she could move again. Her limbs were free and Geoffrey was behind her, gently rubbing at her shoulders, cradling her against him. As if sensing her waking, he laid a kiss upon the nape of her neck.
“I love you,” he whispered. “I love you, Louisa.”
He’d said it earlier, but she had not believed it, had believed he said it only out of guilt and the need to reassure her. This time the words pierced her, filled her heart in places she had not even known were empty.
Rolling over, she faced him, the tips of her breast brushing the sprinkling of hair upon his chest. She met his gaze and held it. “And I love you, Geoffrey. Now. Forever. No matter what.”
He pulled back slightly, staring deep into her eyes as if seeking to see into her very core. “No matter what?”
“No matter what.”
“What if I choose never to speak to my family? To ignore my father?”
“No matter what.”
“What if I marry Bliss off to Duldon?”
“No matter what.”
“What if I go mad and run about the kingdom raising llamas myself?”
“No matter what.”
He grew serious then, his lips losing their curve. “What if I decided that I did need to hurt you, to feel your pain?”
“Will you?”
“No, but what if I did?”
“Then I will tie you to this big bed and wait until the mood passes. Or perhaps I’ll take up your whip myself. No matter what, Geoffrey. Do you have any more questions?”
He lay back upon the pillows, staring up at the canopy. “No, but I am sure more will come to me. The great thing about forever is I have a lot of time.”
“Yes, you do.”
She sat up, naked in his bed, the scent of sex surrounding them. She’d never felt so powerful before. “But, Geoffrey, I must be honest: I am not sure I will be a most obedient wife. Here, in the chamber, I may enjoy … enjoy submitting to your desires, but do not think that I will always do as you say outside of it. And I am not talking of any game.”
That grin—she was loving this night, more and more—filled his face. “Yes, Louisa. I do realize that. I adore how you give yourself to me when I demand, but I also delight in the way that you fight me for what you believe. Perhaps it is why I love and cherish you so.” He reached out and pulled her to him, wrapping his body about hers, creating a haven of warmth. “And, just so you know, I had lunch with my father today. I even listened to him discuss his llamas, and the scheme may not be as crazy as I thought. The duke actually seems to have thought it out. I am not quite ready to trust him, but it is possible, just possible, that he may be becoming a little more reasonable with age.”