When he caught the sensitive peak in his teeth and tugged, her fingertips dug into his shoulders.
“Yes,” she agreed. “Your mouth is wicked and wonderful.”
He grinned against the heavenly curve of her breast and kissed his way to the smooth patch of skin between them. A lone trickle of water from her bath was there, sliding down, over her breastbone. He caught it on his tongue, tracing it back to where it had started, just beneath her left ear. His hands found her breasts, thumbs traveling over her hungry nipples as he kissed the fleshy lobe, then licked over the shell before tonguing the hollow behind it until she shuddered.
“I love the way you respond to me,” he praised. “The way your body comes to life. God, I could kiss you and lick you forever, and it would never be enough.”
A strangled sound tore from her throat, and then her fingers were on the buttons of his shirt, plucking at them, tearing them from their moorings in feverish eagerness. She was every bit as desperate for this union as he was, and the knowledge filled him with even greater fire.
He straightened, helping her with the buttons, before he gave in and simply pulled at the thing until it rent, tossing it to the floor. There would be other shirts. He did not give a damn if it was beyond repair. Especially not when Elysande’s hands were on him, worshiping his bare chest. Or when she kissed him as he had her, the dart of her pink tongue over his own nipple nearly making him into a wild man.
No woman had ever made him this mad to possess her.
He fumbled with the fall of his trousers as she kissed down his chest. Then lower, her delectable mouth coasting over his abdomen. When she sank to her knees, he gave up on the buttons and yanked. Several popped free and rained to the carpets. His desire was so potent, he felt as if he were drunk.
And there she was on the Axminster, utterly naked and more alluring than any Greek or Roman goddess. Her hair was a dark curtain raining down her back, her pretty breasts tipped upward. She leaned forward, brushing his useless fingers aside, and the swell of her bottom peeped from beneath all that glorious hair.
His mind whirled as he struggled to comprehend what was happening here. How the devil he had gone from the seducer to the seduced.
“Let me,” she purred.
And she did not have to make her request twice. He would let her do anything she wanted to him. He was indisputably, utterly hers. He belonged to her, not just because of the vows they had spoken in the chapel at Talleyrand Park, not because of the register they had signed, but because his body was connected to hers in a way he had never experienced. Nay, not just his body, but the rest of him, too.
Slowly, with exacting movements that had him ready to come out of his skin, she finished opening the fall of his trousers. Then, she tugged the waistband down, until he stood before her in nothing but his smalls, his cockstand protruding at an indecent angle from beneath the tented fabric. Elysande hummed, the sound steeped in a mixture of pleasure and approval, and his prick twitched. Her nimble fingers moved to the waistband of his undergarment, sending it to the floor along with his trousers.
He was naked and erect, standing before her like a Satyr. He wanted her more than he wanted his next breath. A drop of seed had seeped from the tip of him and pooled in the slit, glistening in the glow of the lamps. Her head dipped.
Surely she was not going to… An innocent lady would never… Fuck.
Her tongue flicked over the head of his cock, licking up the pearlescent bead of mettle. He ground his jaw to keep from crying out like a lad who had just seen his first naked woman.
“Do you like it?” she asked softly, watching him, awaiting his reply.
Ah, God. She expected words from him? Coherent response?
She was using his own seduction against him. If he were not so out of his head with need for her, he would have been impressed. Perhaps even concerned. What a quick student she was. But of course, for this was Elysande, and he ought to have known that she applied herself to everything fully and completely, determined to conquer.
“Yes,” he managed to force out, a lone hiss, because he did not want her to arrive at the wrong conclusion and stop.
“I do too,” she said, and then she kissed him.
Kissed him on his cock.
One velvet brush of her lips to the sensitive underside. If he did not take care, he was going to spend all over her pretty breasts.
“You like this too, don’t you?” she said, her lips moving against his turgid length with every word.
Elysande on her knees, torturing him with that luscious mouth of hers, was the single most erotic sight he had ever beheld. A gentleman would tug her to her feet and tell her to stop. But Hudson was feeling anything but a gentleman just now.
“I bloody well love it,” he told her.
“Tell me what I should do.” She kissed his shaft again. “Tell me how to please you.”
Tell her to get into the bed and do this the proper way, he chastised himself. She is a virgin.
But the beast in him had emerged, overtaking all sense of ration, reason, or honor. Hudson gripped the base of his engorged prick and his eyes nearly rolled back into his head. He had never been more primed and ready than he was now.
“Suck me,” he told her. “Take me into your mouth.”
And she did. Tentatively at first. Her lips parted, then wrapped around him. White-hot pleasure shot through him. He lost the ability to think. Lost every thought but his wife taking him down her throat, one devastating inch at a time. She went as far as she could go, all the way to his knuckles, the wet, silken heat of her mouth driving him to the razor’s edge of sanity. The urge to surge forward, to bury his cock deeper, was strong, but he held still for her tentative exploration.
She sucked slowly. Gently at first, and then when she wrung a moan from him, with greater gusto. His ballocks tightened. He gripped himself tighter and bit the inside of his cheek, determined to prolong this pleasure for as long as possible. She withdrew, rocking back on her heels to gaze up at him, lips shiny with a combination of her saliva and his leaking seed.
She wore the sultry expression of a woman who had just realized her power over man: infinite.
“Am I pleasing you?” she asked, her voice throaty and low.
His cock was throbbing in time to the beat of his racing heart. And the golden-brown gaze of his wife was still upon him. Oh, Christ. Words. A response. She was waiting again.
“Hell yes, you please me,” he bit out. “You could not please me more.”
A small, knowing grin curved her lips. “I could try.”
She leaned into him, taking him in her mouth once more, and he allowed his head to fall back, closing his eyes. He surrendered to the sheer bliss of the sensations, everything heightened in the absence of vision. The soft sigh of pleasure she made as she sucked him, the wet glide of her lips over his straining cock, his ragged breaths. She withdrew again, and circled his cock head with her tongue.
“Damn it, Ellie.” He could stand no more torture. “I have to be inside you.”
Gently, he disengaged from her and helped her to her feet. Her dazed expression told him she was every bit as affected as he was, and he loved it.
“I was not finished,” she told him.
Ever stubborn, this woman of his.
He laughed and kissed her, and then he tugged her to the bed. “I was going to be finished if you had your mouth on me for a moment longer.”
They were a tangle of naked arms and legs on the sheets, their bodies intertwined in all the right places, his aching erection glancing over her swollen folds. He rocked into her and gave her another kiss that was long and slow and thorough. Just the way he intended to fuck her.
He tasted himself on her lips as their tongues mated. She rubbed her breasts against his chest and held tightly to his shoulders. How thoroughly she undid him. Her softness was intoxicating, her body curved and generous in all the right places. She pleased him more than he could have ever expected. Certainly, mo
re than he deserved.
Reaching between them, he gripped his cock and stroked along her seam. She was drenched. Curse it, how was a man to last? Holding himself more tightly, he rubbed over her clitoris, using the tip of his cock to toy with her, and torturing them both. Her hips bucked as she moaned into the kiss.
Good. She was wet and ready for him. But he wanted her a bit wilder.
He broke the seal of their mouths and rose on one elbow to suckle first one breast, then the other. He sucked hard, and her body bowed from the mattress. Her fingers found his hair, gripping a fistful and tugging on the roots.
Yes, he quite liked that. He would tell her later, when he was capable of speech. There was no more capacity for words in him just now. For now, he was all action and sensation. He teased both of her breasts, working her pearl with his cock until she was writhing beneath him. And then he moved down her body, planting his hands on the supple skin of her inner thighs, and spreading her wide.
Without wasting a second, he lowered his mouth to her quim. She tasted musky and floral from her bath, and he wanted more of that dew on his tongue. Wanted every drop she had to give. His cock was going to have to wait.
He sucked her pearl, then flicked his tongue over it in fast strokes that had her hips thrusting again and again. Yes. She was on the edge, just from sucking his cock and the kisses they had shared. Next time, perhaps he would let her finish him, and then after he spent in her mouth, he would eat her cunny until she was quivering and breathless beneath him.
The thought had him pressing his cock to the mattress in a desperate search for relief. But still, he would not stop until she had reached her climax. Over and over, he lashed her pearl with his tongue. Then, he moved lower, savoring as he licked into her. She was so damned soaked, and he did his best to lick up everything she gave him and then more, so sweet on his tongue.
He returned to the nub of her sex and nibbled on it as he parted her folds and sank a finger into her sheath, preparing her for his entry. The grip of her on his finger was tight and hot and wet, so delicious that he knew he was going to spend almost the moment his cock was inside her. She tensed up, and he bit gently on her clitoris, then fluttered his tongue in light, quick motions that had her easing and opening up. His finger sank deeper, seeking more of her, searching for the special place he knew from experience would enhance her pleasure. He found it, and crooking his forefinger, he caught her pearl between his teeth.
She tightened on him, her entire body tensing beneath him as she found her release. The rush of her spend bathed his finger and ran down his palm, down his wrist. He withdrew and could not resist setting his mouth there, licking up the aftermath of her pleasure. Nothing had ever tasted better.
When he had her limp and sated, just as he wanted her, he rose once more, and settled between her thighs. He aligned his cock with her entrance, guiding himself to where he belonged. Wet heat beckoned him, as did the shift of her body. Her legs spread wider, her body cradling his. Her hands were everywhere. On his chest, his shoulders, his back.
“Are you ready, love?” he asked, his voice feeling as if it had become rusted somewhere over the course of their lovemaking. Speech had become foreign and unnecessary. Their bodies spoke to one another instead.
“Yes.” She circled her arms around his neck, bringing him down to her.
Their lips fused and he surged inside her, swallowing her cry with his kiss. He stilled, surrounded by the unbelievably tight constriction of her cunny. It was good. So good. He was drunk with the feeling of being sheathed inside Elysande at last, but he did not want to hurt her. He needed to move, needed to seat himself more fully, but he also had to take exquisite care. This woman was more precious to him than anything.
He raised his head. “How do you feel?”
She shifted restlessly beneath him. “I feel stretched and full, so wondrously full.”
“Pain?” he asked, even as everything in him roared to carry on. To slide the rest of the way inside her.
“A small pinch. It is different, but in a good way, I think.”
He could see her agile mind working. She was so practical, and of course she would apply her logic even to the bedchamber. But he wanted to free her from her thoughts. To make her mindless and breathless.
“You think?” Hudson kissed the corner of her lips. “I shall have to do my utmost to persuade you then.”
Reaching between their bodies, he found her pearl, which was engorged and slick after his earlier efforts. And so wonderfully receptive. He toyed with it, applying steadier pressure.
“You are proving marvelously convincing,” she murmured.
He smiled, charmed by her easy acceptance of her sensual nature. Hudson could not recall ever making such an effort to protract his lovemaking. He had always been careful to tend to the needs of his lovers in the past, but being with Elysande was different in every way. He wanted this to last forever. To spend an eternity in her arms.
He kissed the other corner of her lips and allowed himself another shallow thrust. He was deeper inside her molten heat, her body tightening on him with so much force, she nearly squeezed him out. Clenching his jaw, he stayed where he was, concentrating on strumming her clitoris, wooing her in every way he could until she was shifting restlessly beneath him once more, her hips seeking.
“What about now, love?” he asked before brushing a tender kiss over her parted lips, absorbing her shallow breaths.
When he lifted his head, she cradled his face in her palms, her gaze glazed with passion. “More, Hudson.”
Two simple words, enough to make him lose control over his body. His hips pumped, and then he was seated inside her, the fluttering clench of her cunny on him so deliriously good, he feared his head might explode. He remained as he was for a heartbeat, basking in the intensity of the sensation.
She was everything he had imagined she would be, only more. So much more. Being inside Elysande like this felt like a homecoming. The sudden, mad thought that he had always been meant to be with her thus hit him and stubbornly refused to be shaken. But then she rocked against him, impatiently urging him to continue, and all coherent thought fled once more.
He kissed her again, allowing himself to move. Slowly at first, withdrawing until he almost slipped free of her sheath, and then gliding back in until he was exactly where he belonged, clutched so deeply inside her that they were one in the most elemental way that existed.
It was so good.
She was so good.
Perfect and right and wet and hot, clamping on him until he drew nearer to the ledge. He broke the kiss to rear up and watch as he fucked her, not wanting to miss a second of this coupling, needing to commit every moment to his memory. His cock was thick and wet with her dew, sliding in and out of her with slow, rhythmic thrusts.
Belatedly, he recalled that she had not spent a second time, and he needed to rectify that. He slipped his fingers into the thatch of chestnut curls, finding her pearl with unerring efficiency. He played over her with pressure and speed, taking note of when she tightened on him more, her body jerking into his. Yes, she liked that. She liked hard and fast.
“Spend for me, Ellie,” he urged her, the words guttural, part command and part plea. “I want to feel you come all over my cock.”
She seized on him, her head rolling back on the pillow as she cried out her release. He continued strumming her clitoris as the waves of her crisis crashed over them both. There was nothing more beautiful than Elysande coming undone while he filled her with his cock.
“Oh, Hudson, I—oh!”
Another long, low moan.
Yes, hell yes.
He was close now as well. He braced himself and thrust into her harder, taking less care now that her body had adjusted to his. In and out. In and out. Beast rather than man. Fucking her mindlessly. More wetness coated his cock, and that was all he needed. He sank deep inside her one last time, and then he withdrew, holding his cock in his fist as he came. His release jetted al
l over her breasts.
He collapsed to the bed at her side, heart thundering in his chest, the only coherent thought in his mind that there was no more beautiful sight than his wife, sated and happy in her bed with his seed marking her creamy skin.
Chapter 12
Elysande woke to light streaming in around the edges of her curtains and a man in her bed.
Not just any man.
Hudson.
Her husband.
In slumber, he looked softer. All the harsh planes and angles of his handsome face were relaxed. He was facing her, his head nestled into the pillow, his dark hair falling over his brow. The shadow of whiskers on his jaw was even more pronounced this morning, lending him a rakish air she could not help but to admire. Her body was aching and sore in strange places, and she smelled like him.
Last night had been…
How to find the word?
Her lexicon seemed woefully inadequate.
Burning in her heart this morning was a new sense of connection with him. They had been as close as two people could be. She felt alive and aware in a whole new way. He had been so tender after they had made love, tending to her, tucking her to his side, and holding her there as they both fell asleep.
But now morning was here, and with it, the inevitable return to the worries facing them. A woman had been murdered. Something was amiss concerning the investigation. And she could not shake the fear that Hudson was in danger.
He shifted and made a deep sound of contentment, rolling to his back. The bedclothes drifted south, revealing a mouthwatering expanse of his chest. Despite the misgivings eddying within her, she took a moment to admire his form by the bright light of day.
Was it wrong to ogle one’s husband while he was asleep?
Should she wake him?
No, said her instinct. Let him slumber on. He had been through so much upheaval in the last few days. He deserved as much rest as he could get, freed from the worries facing them.
“Mmm,” he said then, the lone syllable a low rumble of contentment that stirred her awareness of him.
The Detective Duke (Unexpected Lords Book 1) Page 17
