Mastering The Marquess (Bound and Determined #1)(89)

She licked her lips again, her nerves getting the best of her.

“Undo my trousers.”

She swallowed, hard. Her hands reached out and lay upon his upper thighs, sliding toward his waist, toward the buttons at each side that held his trousers closed. Her fingers fumbled with the closure, until finally she was forced to take her eyes from his.

Instantly nerves assailed her. When she met his eyes she could feel his need, and realized that in doing this she was providing him a place of comfort, offering him what he so desired. Once that thought passed, she returned to the moment, returned to what she needed to do—what she was doing.

The band of his trousers was pulled tight, the fabric straining against his large arousal. She’d never undone a man’s flap. It was an odd thought, but true. Always before she’d been met with nudity, or at most Geoffrey’s nightshirt. This was the first time that she needed to free him. She bit down on her lip harder as her fingers twisted the bone button. Why was it so hard—and, she chuckled to herself, she did not mean that as a play on words.

“God, hurry. I am going to embarrass us both if you don’t stop that dithering.” His voice came out in short gasps.

Finally the buttons slipped loose—and so did he. God, he was magnificent, hard and pulsing and strong. Objectively, the penis might be an odd thing, but here, now, she could only regard it as a thing of power and beauty.

Her inner muscles clenched with the thought of what it could do to her, what it had done to her.

“Take my balls out as well.” His voice held strain, but control as well. He wished this to play out the way he wanted.

Reaching out, she freed the large sac. He slid forward so that it dangled loose at the edge of the chair. His soft sigh of pleasure sent tingles through her.

Leaning forward, she examined his cock. This was the first time she had seen it in full light. That first night, with Charles, she’d been so hurried, and there had been only candlelight. During their morning encounters, curtains had shaded the room. And the subsequent hurried glances as he struggled into his breeches did not count.

Did this thing really fit inside her? She reached out with one finger, stroking the thick velvet skin above the steel shaft. His sex jerked at her touch and she pulled her fingers back, but then let them drift forward again, running them up the underside of his cock, following the line of the purple vein that throbbed there. They continued their journey upward until they reached the ridge of the head. A single drop of glistening moisture formed there. She touched her finger to it, then brought it to her lips, tasting the brine of his desire.

Her nipples pebbled tight, straining against the fabric of her dress. The tips rubbing and chafing against the fabric, she eased back slightly, trying to find a more comfortable position, every breath she took firing ripples of desire between her breasts and her cunny.

“Take them out. It will bring us both pleasure.”

She looked up as his command sounded. “What?”

Their eyes met for a moment, his burning her with their directness—and then they dropped lower, fixing on the top of her dress.

“Lift your breasts above your bodice. Let me see how much they want me.”

“But …” She glanced nervously at the door. What if a servant entered? She knew the thought was ridiculous, but somehow the thought of baring her breasts in the library in full daylight seemed …

He placed a finger beneath her chin, holding it still. “Are you disobeying me?”

“No.” With trembling fingers, she reached down into her bodice, struggling to lift her breasts. Unlike her costume of the previous night, this gown was not designed for such activities, the high, tight fabric constructed to cover, not display. It took some contortion to pull them up, a seam ripping as she did so. Her breaths grew hot and shallow as she finally maneuvered until she could lift the swollen globes above the fabric, the nipples protruding straight out like cannons aiming for attack. The warm air of the room felt cool against her wanting flesh.

She lifted her eyes back to his. Was that a hint of disappointment she saw? Had he not wished her obedience? And then the look was gone, replaced by burning lust. He reached out and caught one nipple tight between thumb and forefinger, pressing and releasing. She felt herself gasp with each subtle movement. And then he pinched hard, twisting.

It hurt. Oh, it hurt. And yet, the line of fire connecting nipple and cunny sizzled with even greater feeling. Moisture pooled between her legs. The strength of the sensation would have brought her to her knees if she had not already been there.

For a moment he held her there, caught on the edge of something she did not understand. Water welled in the depths of her eyes, but she blinked it back.

He twisted once more. It was like being struck by lightning. A single tear trickled down each cheek.

And then his hands fell to his sides. “Next time do not question me.”

“Yes, Geoffrey.”

His lips curved slightly at her response. His gaze focused upon her wet cheeks.

She drew in a deep breath, her aroused nipples rubbing against the lace that edged the top of her bodice.

His hips slid toward her, his thighs widening about her. “You may proceed.”

A new drop of cum clung to the head of his cock and again she reached for it.

“Use your mouth, only your mouth. Hands by your sides—unless you wish me to tie them behind your back.”