He’d been right. There was no going back after this. She didn’t want anyone to see or feel or taste her the way he had. And she didn’t want anyone doing the same for him.
She unfastened the two remaining buttons on his waistcoat and pushed the garment open. He dragged his mouth from hers to discard the clothing. She clutched at his shirt, tugging it from his waistband, and narrowed her eyes at him. “You’re mine.”
His left brow arched, and his expression was so handsome, so seductive, she nearly whimpered with need again.
“Mine,” she repeated, pushing at his shirt.
He ripped the garment over his head and dropped it to the floor.
Anne surveyed the muscled expanse of his chest and abdomen. From the contoured planes of his shoulders to the soft discs of his nipples and lower to the ridges of his ribs and the muscles that rippled down to his waistband. There were scars, like the one on his face, small, pink clues to the life he’d led before. She longed to ask him about them, and she would, but not now. Now, she wanted to see all of him.
She glanced at his breeches. “Are you going to take those off, or should I?”
“Which would you prefer?”
In answer, she unbuttoned his fall. She moved slowly, hopefully teasing him as he’d teased her. No, to do that, she needed to affect him physically. She scooted toward him and kissed the hollow of his throat. A vibration started beneath her mouth and came from him as a soft moan. Encouraged, she licked down and over to his nipple, where she used her lips and tongue the way he’d done with her.
He sucked in a breath and twined his hand in her hair. Surprised it had remained up this long, she felt it give away and tumble around her shoulders.
She kissed her way down to where his breeches gaped open. Slipping her hand into the garment, she found the hard shaft of his sex and marveled at how soft his flesh felt. She tried to push the fabric down over his hips. Thankfully, he added his assistance, freeing his cock completely.
“I can put my mouth on you too?” she asked, recalling what he’d said and more than excited by the prospect.
“If you want to.” His voice was a bit higher than normal. “Here.” He wrapped his hand around hers and showed her how to stroke him from base to tip and back again. On the third time down, she pointed her finger and swept it along the soft sac beneath.
“You can cup them.” He sounded like he was clenching his teeth.
She didn’t look up to verify if that was true for she was far too engrossed in her task. With each stroke, he seemed to surge against her. A drop of wetness gathered at the tip. Apparently they could both be wet—she knew he would be later, when he released his seed.
“You can also move faster,” he murmured, his voice low and coarse. “If you like. But that will send me to the brink.”
“Will it?” She glided her hand around him with more speed then cupped his balls. Pitching her head down, she breathed against his tip. “And my mouth should do the same?”
“Yes.” He pressed on her head, urging her forward.
She licked him, a slow, languid glide around the head and down the underside along a thick vein. Curling her hand around the base, she brought her mouth back up then sucked him along her tongue.
He swore violently, his hand tugging her hair. “Go slow. Please. I won’t last if you don’t.”
He hadn’t guided her wrong yet, so she did as he asked and swallowed his length with a slow glide before easing back once more. She did this more times than she could count, tasting the salt of him on her tongue.
“Anne, I can come in your mouth or I can shag you. Which do you want? And decide quickly.”
She released him and looked up into the strained contours of his face. “Can’t I have both?”
“Not today.”
“Which do you want?” She continued to stroke him with her hand.
Wordlessly, he stripped the rest of his clothes away then did the same for her, nearly tearing her petticoat in the process of wresting it from her body. She helped him with the chemise and had barely cast it away before he picked her up and rotated her on the bed.
He knelt on the mattress and moved between her legs, his gaze sweeping over her body. His lids drooped as his head came down and he claimed her mouth. She arched up from the bed, eager for his touch. He cupped her breast and toyed with her nipple, pinching and tugging as their kisses, hot and wet, grew shorter and more desperate.
Panting, they explored each other, their hands moving eagerly over heated flesh. He swept his fingertips down her side and clasped her hip. She splayed her palms on his back and moved them down until she found the curve of his backside. When his hand moved between her thighs, she held her breath. Her sex, already sensitive, ached for him.
He moved his hips, and his cock was against her, nestled at her sheath. He stroked her clitoris, stirring her desire, before he guided himself into her.
“Breathe, Anne. I’m going to go very slowly.”
He did. Even more slowly than she’d done when she’d had him in her mouth. She wanted him inside her completely, but as her flesh stretched to accommodate him, she realized this was for the best.
It didn’t hurt, but there was a tenderness. Of course there would be. She’d never done this before. “I’m so glad this is you,” she said softly, cupping his nape.
He looked into her eyes. “Thank you. For this gift—for you.” He slid completely
