Pleasuring Lady Pennington (A Super Steamy Regency Romance Book 6)

by Georgette Brown

  Shivers wracked his body. He gave a hearty roar as a second wave of seed gushed forth. She swallowed this and sucked upon his cock for more. Legs trembling, he pulled her off. She managed to get in one final lick.

  “Enough,” he grunted as he leaned into the chair. A shudder went through him to the top of his head. He looked upon her with a glazed expression, and she knew she had done well. She would have wagered he had never before had his cock so delightfully sucked. She wanted to tell him she could repeat her performance all night long if he wished.

  “You are a woman of great talent, Lady Pennington,” he said after a long breath.

  “Have I earned my pleasure?”

  More moisture dripped down her thigh. She hoped he had enough vigor to ravish her as she had dreamed.

  Abruptly, he swept her into his arms. Her heart hammered quickly. His mouth was beside her ear.

  “Most assuredly, Lady Pennington.”

  CEDMAN HAD SURRENDERED to his lust, his desire for this woman, and consented to her influence. He reminded himself what was at stake. He had to maintain control. She had bewitched him with her bright eyes and her desire for him, but now he would regain his composure, and make her lose hers.

  He led her to the bed and motioned her to recline there. Hellfire, she was a sight, with her golden curls tousled. Giving himself a respite, he poured a glass of port. He drank it leisurely as he studied Lady Pennington. He watched the rise and fall of her bosom. She should have left him alone—paid him no heed—though he supposed he ought be flattered by her attentions. Any man of reason would have welcomed her seduction. But his plans held no room for her, and he had the sinking feeling that she could turn his world topsy-turvy. He could not permit that to happen.

  Walking over to her, he gazed at the area between her legs. She had a lovely quim graced by a thatch of curls that matched those on her head. Was that new moisture he beheld?

  He teased her folds with the tip of his finger, drawing a muffled moan. The scent of her desire wafted through his nose, heating his blood. With his hand, he cupped her mons and thumbed her clitoris. She made an unintelligible sound. His thumb rubbed and played with her rosebud. Her fingers tightened on the bedclothes. After arousing her for several minutes, he withdrew his hand and brought his tongue to her inner thigh. She cried out, and he took advantage of her growing lust. Sliding his tongue across her thighs, he eased toward her erect bud. He flicked it before sucking it and fingering her delicate folds. She moaned softly. Her quim clenched as if asking for attention. He granted it, sinking a digit, then two, into her slit. His own arousal roared to new life. She was so deliciously hot and wet. Curling his fingers, he stroked the inside of her womanhood. Her head fell back against the pillow. He gazed upon her countenance to see her lashes flutter erratically, her mouth part from panting, and desire furrow her brow. She was beautiful to behold.

  But he would see her lose all sense. A woman who had threatened his family would beg him for release, release from the overwhelming pleasure he wrought. He withdrew his hand and she whimpered.

  He tasted of her again, dipping his tongue deep. She felt exquisite. Damnably exquisite. His cock hardened, wanting entree to her wetness.

  She moaned and writhed. His hands on her hips, he stilled her so he could continue stroking and licking. She bucked against him and cried out incoherently. He smiled. Now he had her. Sucking her sensitive bud again, he inhaled her musk, tasted her desire. Alternating sucking and licking her swollen clit, he pumped his digits inside her. Arching into the bed, she panted, her inner walls contracting rhythmically around his fingers. A long cry escaped her as she fell into paroxysm. When he felt he had wrung the last of her climax from her, he looked up to see her cheeks flushed crimson, her body limp from satiation.

  When his gaze met hers, he had to close his eyes or he might find himself lost in the brilliance of her eyes. Of a sudden, he wanted to scoop her into his arms and make love to her.

  It was not an auspicious sentiment.

  HER MOUTH WAS SORE from her earlier efforts upon him, and the forming of words required some effort, yet, she savored every minute of it all. She knew she whimpered when he withdrew his fingers. And she rolled her eyes back when he caressed her thighs, stoking a fire she had thought dampened by her climax. He tweaked her nipples, bringing her back to his gaze. His smoldering expression alone caused her aching quim to demand more.

  He moved off the bed.

  She sat up. “We are not done, Mr. Ashley?”

  “You wish for more?”

  “Most assuredly.” Her voice was husky and sure.

  He raised his brows at the fervor with which she spoke. She could see that desire still burned in his eyes, but he was not willing to give in.

  “Would it not please you to ravish me?”

  He released a haggard breath. Their gazes met, and before she could offer to give his family a year’s respite, he was upon her, his mouth engulfing hers. His lips pressed and roamed over hers with a force that made her head spin. She attempted to match his fervor but surrendered instead to his dominance. In her fantasies of him, she had never dreamed of being kissed in such a furious manner. It was as if he meant to suck—nay, grind—the breath from her.

  He parted her lips to provide entry for his tongue to taste the depths of her mouth. She returned the kiss, entwining her tongue with his, both releasing and flaming the ardor between them. He wrapped an arm about her waist to pull her closer. She pressed herself against his hardness, inviting more of his passion. Her hands went to the back of his neck as she devoured him as much as he devoured her.

  She sought his cravat next, pulling the neckcloth from him. He assisted in his undressing till collar and waistcoat were divested, all without barely lifting his mouth. She yanked down his braces and pulled his shirt from his trousers. Despite having spent moments ago, the heat of desire scorched through her anew. He tore his shirt overhead before reaching for her once more. His hands roamed her body, cupping a buttock, sliding up her spine, and cradling a breast. She dropped a hand to rub him through his fall.

  Desire spread from between her thighs to the rest of her body in delicious flutters. After being attended to by Mr. Ashley the way he had, she was ready to hump anything he gave her leave to.

  He groaned before pushing himself away to shed the remainder of his attire. She drank in the sight of his beautiful body: the ridges of his chest, the swell of his leg muscles, the stiff rod protruding from his groin. She lay down and parted her thighs. With a low grunt, he positioned himself atop her without resting the full weight of his body upon her, though she would have welcomed it. And then she felt him, his velvet hardness sliding along her folds. She came to attention. Having his him so near to her most private flesh—nothing could be finer lest he plunged himself in.

  His shaft pressed against her slit.

  Why did he wait? Did he want her assent? By God, she wanted nothing more than to have him inside her. She would sooner starve than go without him.

  “Take me already,” she murmured.

  With a groan, he shoved himself into her. Glory waved through her body. His erection filled her in a way she had never felt before. Holding her hips, he pumped himself in and out of her, making her delirious with delight.

  “Beg to spend,” he told her as he bucked against her.

  She tried to suppress her looming climax. “Please, make me spend!”

  He began a more vigorous thrusting. She clenched her entire body to keep herself from spending too soon. She wished to feel what further heights he could take her to.

  “Not—yet,” he gasped out as he changed his rhythm, drawing his length out slowly before ramming himself back in.

  She grunted as she felt herself ground into the bed, but the scintillation of him stroking her inside, the depths of her belly that he touched when he drove himself deep, all this overwhelmed any discomfort. She prayed he would make her spend for she could hold it back no longer.

  “Spend,” he
commanded.

  Her body gave into the torrent of ecstasy that had kindled and yearned to be set free. She sobbed as the rapture rolled over and over throughout her. While she shuddered in pleasure, he grasped her hips harder and thrust himself furiously into her, seeking his own release. The air filled with the sound of him grunting, of flesh smacking against flesh, of her continued groans. Her belly tightened once more, and she felt a second wave overtake her, propelling her higher.

  He muttered something unintelligible just before he spent. She felt the splash of his mettle upon the inside of her thigh. Collapsing beside her, he pulled her to him and kissed her with a tenderness she had not anticipated. She could hear and feel his deep breaths. Closing her eyes, she relished the warmth of his embrace, the strength of his arms as he held her close. When she could move again, she ran her hand over his chest, feeling his breath, his heartbeat.

  They lay together in silence for some time before he asked, “Have I satisfied my end of the proposition, Lady Pennington?”

  She drew in a deep breath. Now was the time of reckoning. She had secured what she desired, but by a means she was not proud of. “In truth...”

  “In truth...?” he prodded when she did not finish her sentence.

  “...I lied.”

  He paused. “Pardon?”

  “I lied. I never meant to turn your mother—your family—out of Merrybourne. I only said it to force your hand, to gain your favor for the night.”

  For several seconds he only stared at her. She wondered if she had, by chance, made him more upset by her confession.

  “Do you regret what you have done?” he asked, his tone still stern.

  She bit her bottom lip. “Yes and no. I am more than happy with our evening.”

  “Are you?” he asked in earnest.

  “I spent, did I not?”

  “Yes, but—I would not have—I would have acted differently—”

  “I relished all that transpired.”

  Shaking his head, he let out his breath. “You never intended to throw my family out? It was all a pretense?”

  “Forgive me. I could not resist.”

  “I have a mind to give you another spanking.”

  “Please do.”

  He groaned. Winding his hand into her hair, he pulled her down to him. “You are a very wicked woman, Lady. Pennington.”

  CEDMAN ASSISTED HER into her robe. He had worried he had been too harsh with the spanking. Though he had enjoyed every second, had spent with a force and joy he had not known in some time, he advised himself not to be too taken by her. He needed to stay his course.

  But seeing her ladyship’s smile and the sparkle in her eyes when she looked upon him dissipated his anguish. He could still hardly believe what she had told him about her true intentions. The naughty vixen.

  “I could not be so heartless,” she said when they talked of it again.

  “You led me to believe you were. Had I known, I would have acted differently.” He had purposefully sought to unnerve her, even punish her. She was fortunate he had not gone further.

  “Then punish me for my falsehood.”

  He gave her a hard look. “Do not tempt me.”

  He was still determined that their pleasure be confined to one night.

  “You would deprive women of such pleasure as you bring?”

  “I have other cares at the moment. If you wish to atone for your behavior, there is one thing you could do,” he said, releasing her. “You can permit my family to stay at Merrybourne for at least a year. I will find a way to make the payments you seek.”

  “Of course.”

  After adjusting his own garments, he collected his hat, gloves, and cane.

  “I’m sorry you missed your night at the theatre,” she said.

  He took in a long breath before replying, “I am not.”

  She smiled. “I hope that we may be friends, Mr. Ashley.”

  A friendship with her was far too dangerous, he thought to himself. He made no reply and bowed over her hand.

  As he took his leave of her, he grew increasingly at ease with what had transpired. It had felt good to be with a desirable, beautiful woman once more, and Lady Pennington had proved more than a satisfactory counterpart for him. Tomorrow he would return to the task of courting Miss Adams, but he would have fond memories of his night of pleasure with Lady Pennington.

  THE END

  Other Titles by Georgette Brown

  Steamy Regency Collection

  An Indecent Wager (Book #1)

  Surrendering to the Rake (Book #2)

  That Wicked Harlot (Book #3)

  Tempting a Marquess (Book #4)

  Tempting a Marquess for Christmas (Book #5)

  Other

  Pride, Prejudice & Pleasure