The Study of Seduction (Sinful Suitors, #2)(81)

“Oh.” So there would be no thrusting and shoving into her, no fighting a man’s weight atop her. She eyed him with suspicion. “You really would accept it if I stopped in the middle and pulled myself off of you?”

“I swear on my mother’s grave,” he said solemnly. “You will have me utterly at your mercy.”

“All right, then.” She swallowed hard. “I want to try it.”

His cock, which had been flagging through the discussion, shot straight up. “You do?”

“I—I can’t promise to endure it for long, but I want to try.”

“That’s all I ask.”

With a determined nod, she knelt above him on the seat, straddling his hips. Though she’d understood his directions, it proved trickier than she’d expected.

“I can help,” he said. “Or you can take my cock with your hand and guide it in.”

That hadn’t occurred to her. And she did that. In the meantime, he started rubbing her nipples with his hands, making her feel quite . . . heated, and before she’d even realized it, she was sliding down upon him. To her shock, though his cock felt intrusive inside her, there was no pain. No pain at all. Just some tightness.

Her gaze flew to him. “It . . . it doesn’t hurt!”

“Good.” He didn’t say, “I told you so,” or, “Ta-da!” or anything. Indeed, he looked as if he were having difficulty just breathing. His eyes were closed, his jaw taut enough to cut glass. “God help me, minx. You feel incredible.”

The rough timbre of his voice sent a feminine thrill through her that made her relax and slide down a bit more. “Do I?”

“Like silk. Hot, enveloping silk.” He gave an undulating move that sent him farther up inside her, then gritted his teeth. “Sorry. I wasn’t supposed to do that, I know. It’s just . . . you feel so damned wonderful.”

“So do you. I think.” Thank God Yvette had been right. How much it hurt definitely depended on the man’s approach.

“You think?” he echoed, a thread of amusement in his voice.

She wriggled on him, and the groan that came from deep in his throat made her feel more alive, more of a woman than she’d allowed herself to feel for years. “I’ll have to experiment some more to be sure.” She settled herself on him, trying to find a more comfortable position.

“Stop that.” His eyes flew open. “God, please stop.”

She blinked at him. “That’s what I usually say. But you can’t possibly want me to stop this.”

“Not ‘this.’ That. Moving around. It’s just enough motion to . . . make me insane.”

“Is it?” She wiggled some more. “How about that?”

“Don’t torture me, my sweet. I can’t bear it.”

“I’m not trying to torture you. I just really don’t know what to do.”

“Right. Of course.” He was breathing hard, his eyes heavy-lidded. “Try . . . moving up and down.”

Up and down? Remembering how the Vile Seducer had driven into her, she realized that this would be that in reverse, with her controlling the motion. How intriguing.

“Please,” he rasped. “Before I go out of my mind.”

“All right,” she said, and came up, then slid down.

His fingers dropped to grip her hips. “Yes, sweetheart, yes. Again.”

“For a man at my mercy, you are very demanding,” she said with a sniff, but did what he asked.

This time, he gave a low moan of pure pleasure. It was quite rewarding. And the up-and-down motion felt good to her, too. Rather enjoyable. So she did it again. And again.

It got easier each time. And when he began to finger her down where they were joined, she felt that quick leap of sensation she’d felt when he’d had his mouth on her in the carriage. “Oh, Edwin . . . oh my . . .”

He kissed her then, deeply, fiercely. He’d begun thrusting up inside her, too, but she rather liked that. It gave her an idea of the proper rhythm. And when he bumped her a certain way . . . it was glorious. Absolutely glorious.

Heavens. This wasn’t what she’d expected at all. No pain . . . no fear. Just Edwin beneath her, undulating into her, making her want to devour him, to engulf him, to show him she truly was his bride. His woman. His wife.

“You’re mine . . . now . . . Edwin Barlow,” she said as she clutched at his shoulders, riding him faster, harder. “My husband. For always.”

“My wife,” he choked out, his face alight. “Forever.”

It had the sound of a vow. And now that rushing feeling was building down low in her belly, and her fingernails dug into his shoulders and she felt as if she were hurtling across the grounds on horseback, neck-or-nothing . . . heading for the biggest jump of them all. The one that would take her into the heavens . . . glittering there . . . just beyond her reach . . .

“Yes . . . more . . .” she cried as their motions reached a fever pitch. “Yes, my darling, yes!”

He drove up and spilled himself inside her. “Clarissa . . . My Clarissa!”

Mine.

With that exultant thought, she shot over the moon and into the stars.

It took some time for Edwin to come to his senses, especially with his lovely wife draped luxuriously over him.