The Bride Goes Rogue (The Fifth Avenue Rebels #3)(41)

He growled deep in his throat. “Oh, mon chaton. I can see how slick you are, you gorgeous creature. You liked telling me about your list, didn’t you?”

She nodded, her bottom lip disappearing between her front teeth.

He could feel his cock leaking, eager to find her heat. God almighty, he might give his entire fortune in this moment to fuck her. But reality intruded once again. Anything more than this was impossible.

Instead, he said, “I’m going to help you find relief. We’re going to take care of your pussy right now, aren’t we?”

“Please,” she whispered, her eyelids sweeping closed, as if the admission embarrassed her.

“Keep holding your skirts but use your free hand to slide over your mound, then along each inner thigh. Don’t touch your clitoris yet.”

Her long fingers glided through the crisp hair between her legs, then swept from one leg to the other, teasing. He heard the hitch in her breath as she coasted past where she ached the most, frustrated at being denied. Which meant he wasn’t going to give her what she wanted yet.

“Again,” he ordered.

“Pres,” she said on a whine, but did as he asked.

The carriage turned a corner, but he hardly noticed. His focus remained on the heavenly place between her thighs and watching her hand as it drifted over her skin. “Good girl,” he praised. “Now, with one finger, gather the moisture at your entrance.”

Her middle finger dipped into her entrance and Preston ground his back teeth together, fighting the urge to touch himself. He could easily spend in seconds, her movements more arousing than anything he’d ever witnessed. “Use that moisture on your clit, reinette. Smear it across that little bud and make it wet.”

The second she did as he asked, her back arched off the seat, a soft moan filling the carriage. “Oh, God,” she said, her eyes remaining closed.

“Does it feel nice?”

“Yes.”

“Keep going. Show me how you like to stroke yourself.”

She used tight circles, faster than he would have used if he were touching her. The skin covering her pearl had retracted, giving him the perfect view of her clitoris, engorged and red, as she worked it. Fuck, that was a beautiful sight.

Her head dropped back to rest against the carriage, as if she was lost in the pleasure, her pants coming faster. Was she close to peaking? He didn’t want this to be over so soon. He wanted to watch her do this all day. “Stop,” he ordered.

“No, please.” She paused, her brow creased. “I’m so close.”

“Precisely why you must stop. I’m not ready to let you come.”

“But why not?”

Because I want to torture us both.

Because I’ll never have this chance again.

Because I need this to become number one on your list.

“Because you’re my reinette and you’ll do what I say. Aren’t you?”

She visibly shivered. “Yes, my king.”

The pleasure those words sent cascading through him should have embarrassed him. He pressed his palm against his erection, unable to help a quick stroke through his clothing. Jesus, he needed to come so badly.

Forcing his hand back to his side, he swallowed and returned his attention to her. “Do you feel empty, mon chaton?”

Her lips parted and she nodded once.

“I thought so,” he said. “Put a finger inside you, exactly where you ache.”

Her hand moved lower, then one finger extended to slowly disappear inside her channel. It took every ounce of his control not to move as he watched her walls suck the digit inside. “Fuck,” he whispered. “I love how that looks. Does it feel good?”

“It does,” she said on a gasp. “So very good.”

He could imagine that tight heat, how it had clasped his finger the night of the ball. He wished he’d given her more, but there hadn’t been time. “Would you like to try two?”

“Will it hurt?”

“It shouldn’t but you may go slow.”

She inhaled a deep breath, his brave reinette, and began working her index and middle fingers inside her. His pulse hammered in his ears as he watched the careful invasion, wishing he could touch or lick her, anything to bring her more pleasure. It wasn’t in his nature to hold back and sit passively, and he knew how delicious she tasted. He was dying to get her flavor on his tongue once more.

“Do you like watching me?” she asked, still feeding her fingers into her channel, rocking them back and forth. She hadn’t opened her eyes since lifting her skirts, so she didn’t know how her actions were affecting him.

“God, yes. My cock is so hard it hurts, and my balls are tight and full of come. It would take about three pumps before I spent.”

“Then why don’t you?”

“Because this is about you. Keep going. Fill yourself with your fingers.”

Finally, after another long second, the digits were seated inside. Her chest heaved, her body quivering. “Oh, goodness. I can’t . . . it’s so much.”

But not as much as my cock.

He dug his nails into the leather, trying not to think about how tight she would be around him, how deep he could fill her. Now was not the time.

“You can,” he said confidently. “Your body was made for pleasure, reinette. Pump your fingers like I would.”