Her sex—already sensitive and swollen—pulsed at his low, rough command as she hastened to obey.
He sat on the bench in front of the small dressing table and removed his new boots with a few rough jerks, throwing them to the floor with loud thunks before pushing down his stockings and standing.
Their eyes locked as he undid the closures on his fall and then quickly flicked open the four buttons beneath. His movements were practiced yet sensual—as if he’d disrobed in front of women countless times and was comfortable displaying his body.
Martha didn’t want to think about how many lovers he must have had to gain such confidence and competence in the bedchamber.
He shoved down his breeches and drawers in one graceful motion and when he stood, his erection jutted long and thick from his narrow hips.
She knew her mouth was open but couldn’t make herself close it.
Hugo strode toward her, his shaft bobbing, and reached for the hem of her nightgown. Martha lifted her hips without being told and he raised the garment up over her head, throwing it to join the other clothing.
His eyes glittered as they traveled down her body, lingering on her stiff nipples. “So bloody beautiful,” he murmured as he climbed up on the bed. “Lie on your back, Martha.”
When she complied, he nudged her thighs apart and knelt between her legs. “You do this to me,” he said, sliding his palm around his erection, his tone almost contemplative. They both looked down as he pumped himself, a bead of moisture appearing at the very tip.
Martha was frightened of his size, but her body craved him—desperately—and she ached with need.
His lips curved into tiniest, smuggest of smiles—as if he could see the contents of her wicked mind. He ran his other hand, hot and calloused, up the inside of her thigh, delving into her curls when he reached the top. He traced her lips, his stroking too maddeningly light.
As she’d done the other night, Martha opened her legs wider and lifted her hips in silent entreaty.
He groaned, released himself, and gracefully lowered his torso, shoving her legs even wider to accommodate his wide shoulders. “You’re driving me mad,” he muttered, and then opened her with his thumbs, the tip of his tongue peeking between his lips. He made a noise that sounded like he was in pain and then lowered his mouth over her.
She squeezed her eyes shut at the unbearable bliss of his hot, wet mouth and caressing tongue. His forearms kept her thighs pinned and spread while he ruthlessly worked her toward her climax.
Martha bucked and thrust and writhed, shameless in her passion.
And then he pushed his tongue inside her.
“Hugo,” she cried out, shocked and aroused in equal measures at the erotic invasion.
He didn’t pause, the primitive rhythm of his thrusting a promise of what was to come.
The second orgasm was upon her before she knew what was happening. Unlike the headlong rush of the first, this was a brutal punch of intense pleasure that shattered her.
He slid a finger inside her and she gasped as her inner muscles contracted around him.
“Mmm.” He kissed and nibbled the tender skin where her thigh joined her sex and then moved up beside her, until they were hip to hip, and claimed her mouth.
Martha gasped; that was herself she tasted on his tongue.
“Sweet, aren’t you?” He sucked her lower lip into his mouth as he rubbed his erection against her hip. “Touch me, Martha.”
Martha had been dreaming of touching him for weeks—never had she expected the astounding silky softness of his skin. Or the heat of him.
He closed his hand around hers and gave a low growl of approval. “Just like that, darling—tight.” He released her hand and palmed her mound, gently squeezing her sex. “Mine.” He pushed two fingers inside her, working her with languid pumps. “All mine.”
With each stroke of her hand, she spread more and more moisture down his shaft, until he was slick with it. He grunted and thrusted his hips, pushing into her tight, wet fist.
It was challenging to ignore her own pleasure and concentrate on bringing him to his release, but she wanted to see him come apart.
“So good,” he muttered. And then he did something to her with his thumb, and a blissful sensation ambushed her yet again.
Martha bucked and cried out. “Hugo.”
He groaned. “Oh, Martha. I wish you could see how beautiful you look right now,” he said in a husky voice, his hand stilling while she shuddered, boneless with ecstasy.
He waited until she came back to herself before removing her limp hand from his erection, making her realize that she had stopped stroking him.
Martha reached for him again. “I want—”
“No.” His jaws were tight enough that she could see the muscles and sinews beneath the skin “I can’t wait any longer to get inside you.” He positioned his body over hers and cut her a quick, concerned look. “It will only hurt for a moment, darling, and then I promise I’ll make you feel wonderful.” His slick, hot crown pressed against her entrance, hard and insistent. “Do you want me, Martha?”
“Yes … please, Hugo,” she begged, as if some wanton had gained control of her mouth.
He breached her with a quick, firm thrust and she cried out, more in surprise than pain, although there was considerable discomfort.
He was panting, like he’d been running, his pupils huge. “Mmmm, Martha. So wet and tight for me,” he growled against her temple, his biceps bulging as he held himself still.
Martha squirmed beneath his far larger body as she stretched to accommodate him. He was big and it hurt more than she’d expected. But she wanted him—wanted this—no matter how uncomfortable it was.
“Can you take the rest of me?” he asked in a strained voice.
She bit her lip and tilted her hips.
“Good girl, open yourself
