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A shy but wanton smile graced her lips. She stroked her fingers through his hair, acclimating him to her touch. “But not on your lips…everywhere but your lips.” She stroked her fingers down over the sharp angles of his jaw, down over his shoulders, tenderly.
With tentative grace, she climbed into his lap. Everything in him shut down, and he braced himself for the revulsion. It never came. All he could feel was the softness of her ass as she wiggled against his thighs, her scent—spiced wine and berries enveloped his nose—and her soft husky voice murmuring soothing nonsense. He was surrounded by Payton, and all he could feel and anticipate was her.
She shifted so she sat on his lap, her legs bracketing his, opening her pink womanly flesh to his eyes.
Christ.
“The first time I heard your voice, without even seeing your face, I wanted to be ridden by you desperately hard.”
She slipped her hands around his neck and leaned in so her wonderful breasts were pressed against his chest.
Mikhail groaned.
“I will happily oblige you,” she drawled. “But first I am going to lick and taste you all over.”
And she did. With soft swipes of her hot tongue across his chest, over his nipples, and down. To then come back up in a torturous journey of slow kisses. He felt as if he were enslaved to the stroke of her tongue, desperately wanting her to go lower and lower until she kissed his length.
“God, you’re beautiful.”
A secret smile tugged at her lips at his praise, and she shimmied from his lap and knelt in front of him.
“Payton, I—”
She enveloped him in fire.
A ragged groan burst from his throat.
God, he’d wanted to feel Payton’s mouth all over his body for the longest time. In the dark corners of his heart, he’d dreamed of having those arrestingly alluring full lips wrapped around him, taking him with the innocent hunger he could see blazing in her golden orbs. But the fantasy was nothing like the reality. She licked and sucked his cock beautifully, and with wicked carnality. It was the most erotic thing Mikhail had ever seen, her lips stretching over his cock, her tongue flicking and curling over its engorged head as she knelt before him.
Rip. The shift tore against his straining arms, and he trembled under the devastating pleasure of her touch. Her mouth stretched over his cock, her cheeks hollowing as she drew on him, her eyes never leaving his. Her lips made him harder than he’d ever been. He thrust slowly and deeply into her mouth, loving the sounds she made—soft purrs of pleasure.
As her mouth loved him, Mikhail felt as if he were going mad from the hunger clawing through his body. His head fell back against the cushions of the chair, and groan slipped from him as she licked from his balls to the tip of his cock. He could wait no longer to be inside her.
“Straddle my lap,” he growled, his voice so guttural with arousal he sounded unintelligible.
She complied, sliding against his thigh, and he hissed at the wetness he felt.
“Lift your breasts and bring them to my mouth.”
She moaned, gripping his length and positioning him against the entrance of her body.
“Payton.” Her name was a plea of raw need.
Rip.
His hands burst free; her eyes widened as he pounced. Gripping her long tresses, he pulled her down to him with sensual intent, drawing her so that she straddled him on the chair, her knees bracketing his hips.
“Mikhail!” She cried his name as he pushed his hand between her legs and sent three fingers delving deep. She was wet, so damn wet. She twisted and arched to him as he trailed his tongue down her neck to her breasts. He lurched from the chair, and in two strides he was lowering her onto the sofa, notching the head of his cock at her entrance. She screamed when he plunged deep inside the clenching depths of her heat.
He kissed her fiercely, capturing her cries, and thrust into her hard with deep measured strokes. He groaned into their kiss as she pushed her hands low and gripped his ass.
Merciful Christ!
She moved in urgent counterpoint to his fierce thrust, giving him everything he demanded and more.
“Let me hear it,” he whispered roughly. “Say the words.”
“I love you.”
He went to his knees, gripped her thighs, and pulled her to the edge of the sofa. She tilted her hips, drawing her feet up until they rested on the sofa’s edge, opening her core to his thrusts. He lost himself in her, in her cries, in her wet heat, and the peace he felt being inside of her almost scared him. The smacking and sounds of their loving drowned him in sensuality, and his cravings deepened. Never had a woman made him this damned hungry. She begged for more, and he obliged. He gripped her hips as he began to hammer into her with quick deep strokes that sent pleasure rippling from his spine to his brain and back down to his balls. He couldn’t speak. Couldn’t praise her or encourage her to milk his cock.
He could only feel.
Never had he immersed himself so completely into making love, never had he felt such primitive need, shattering all barriers of caution he’d normally possessed.
She burned him alive.
He speared his fingers through her hair, anchoring her gaze to his. “I love you, Payton.”
She clamped down on his length and bit into his shoulder as she convulsed, hoarse moans ripping from her. She hugged him and wrapped her legs high around the middle of his back, and he cradled her buttocks in his palms as he tilted her hips, shafting deeper and deeper with each stroke. He felt consumed, overwhelmed, and shockingly hungry for more.
She dug her fingernails into his shoulders. “I ache…I burn, but please do not stop,” she gasped, trembling as ecstasy seized her, and she rippled over his cock, bathing him in her pleasure.
Fire raced along his nerve endings as he emptied deep inside her.
And he tumbled into a peace and contentment he had never felt in his life.
He rolled with her, placing her still-quaking body on top of his. Her tremors subsided, and he tightened his arms around her, stroking her hair.
“Will you marry me?”
A sweet chuckle spilled from her. “Oh yes.”
And he was completed.
Epilogue
Four weeks later.
Payton cut the corner at breakneck speed. Her love thundered behind her on his horse, but the power of Aeton made it possible for her to stave off Sage. A few seconds later they slowed the horses to a canter, and she giggled at the disgruntled look on Mikhail’s face.
His lips curved in a smile. “You minx, you cheated.”
She tossed back her head. “Absolutely not. I simply said I cannot wait for you to bind me to the bed later tonight and have your delightfully wicked way with me. You were distracted, and I simply rode away.”
He nudged his horse closer, and she reached out and clasped his hand. Though he welcomed more and more of her touch since marrying two weeks ago, Payton insisted they indulge in bed play where he was in complete control and she was at his wonderful mercy. She’d suspected they would forever have that aspect of absolute restraint when making love in their life, but she did not mind it. In fact, she hungered for the eroticism of the more unusual part of being with him and trusted him wholly with her pleasure.
If society was shocked they had married so quickly and in a small ceremony at Sherring Cross’s chapel, Payton did not know. They had buried themselves in the country, basking in each other and refusing all invitations to balls, houses parties, and soirees. They had only journeyed to London two days past to assist her sister Phoebe in preparing for the upcoming season in a few weeks’ time. Payton would help sponsor Phoebe into society, and be there to guide her through the murky waters. Parliament would also open, and Mikhail would take his seat.
Their presence had been met with speculation and something akin to awe, and a bevy of callers had already descended on their town house. Much to the dismay of the haute monde, they were not yet available to callers.
