“Oh, oh my.” She couldn’t stop the tiny mewls escaping her throat. When he looked at her over her mound, his eyes smoldering with passion and promise, she realized she’d not come close to reaching the pinnacle because she suddenly found herself trembling with sensations that were impossible to ignore.
“You will come for me, Esme,” he growled. A lick, a suckle. “You’ll scream my name until the fire I ignite within you burns out.”
She’d faced murderous thugs, but never had she been more terrified. Sitting up slightly, resting on her elbows, she managed to thread the fingers of one hand between the strands of his hair. “Marcus—”
“Don’t be afraid, sweetheart. You won’t be alone. I’ll follow with you pulsing around my cock.” His eyes still on her, he intensified his ministrations.
She’d never known sensations so marvelous.
“You taste so good, better than anything that’s ever come out of a wicker hamper.”
A burst of laughter escaped, and she bit downon a knuckle. A woman didn’t giggle when a man’s face was buried between her legs, and yet he made her happy. So gloriously happy.
Gliding his hands up, he cradled her breasts, his thumbs skimming lightly over her hardened nipples, causing them to strain toward the touch. “Oh, yes, please keep doing that, keep doing everything. I’ve never—”
She’d never known that her flesh could sing out in such wonder. That stars would hover at the edge of her vision, that everything within her would explode at once and that she would indeed be screaming out his name, a benediction, a triumph.
He thrust into her. “Christ, I can feel you throbbing around me. It feels so good, Esme. You feel so good. Wet, hot, and tight.”
Then he bowed back, groaning her name, going still for a heartbeat, two, before collapsing on top of her, supporting his weight on his elbows so as not to crush her, when she wanted him flat against her. She skimmed her fingers lazily over his dew-coated back. Waiting as their harsh breathing subsided to confess, “I’ve never had a man go to such effort for me before.”
He planted a kiss on her shoulder. “Then none were deserving of you.”
She wrapped her arms and legs around him, holding him near, wishing she remained heartless because it was going to hurt dreadfully when their time together came to a close.
Chapter 16
A couple of hours earlier, he’d rolled off her, brought her in close, and fallen asleep with his hand cupped over her hip possessively as though claiming, “Mine.” Or perhaps it was merely Esme’s silly imagination conjuring such sentiments because she wanted him towanther. The feelings coursing through her now—she’d never before experienced them. She’d never felt so close to someone, as though he were part of her. They breathed in tandem, and she couldn’t seem to stop studying him, with his long dark lashes resting on his cheeks, his sharp aquiline nose, his sturdy jaw, and that remarkable mouth that had brought her such exquisite pleasure.
His eyes fluttered open, and he smiled contentedly. “Hello.”
She had the uneasy sensation that she mightbe blushing, as a wave of pure pleasure swept through her. “Hello.”
“My apologies for falling asleep, but you fair wore me out.”
“It’s all right. I liked watching you when you were unaware that I was.”
He angled his head slightly. “Are you suddenly shy?”
“I made quite the spectacle of myself, coming apart as I did.”
His grin widened. “I intend to have you screaming at least once more before you leave.”
“You’re the only one who ever has made me react with such wild abandon. I thought that perhaps the surgery had removed that womanly part of me, so I couldn’t properly join with a man. On my own I can find release but—”
“I’d like to watch that.”
She furrowed her brow. “What?”
“You pleasuring yourself.”
“Absolutely not.” It was too personal, too intimate, and yet what she’d recently done with him was equally so.
“I’ll return the favor, perform for you.”
“You are wicked.”
“Because I want to know every aspect of you?” His fingers kneaded her hip. “As for what you said earlier, the absence of a womb makes you no less a woman.”
