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In the end he had to break the kiss instead. “Slide forward.”
She looked uncertain and he realized that her lover may never have taken her like this—they’d not had much time together.
He should not have felt glad at that thought.
She rose on her knees above him, looking down, and their fingers tangled on his cock. He watched and felt as she lowered herself, slowly sheathing herself on him, her soft pink folds parting and accepting him within herself. The fit was tight and good, and he had to resist the urge to buck up into her, to end this too soon.
She licked her lips, her eyes dark, and looked at him inquiringly.
He let his hand fall, answering the unspoken question. “Do as you wish.”
Her eyes narrowed speculatively at his words and she cautiously rose. His cock slid deliciously partway from her body. She moved against him slowly like this for several minutes as if discovering and judging each new angle. It was sweet.
Sweetly torturing.
Finally he broke, fisting his good hand in the coverlet as she ground down against him once more, not fast enough, not hard enough. “More.”
She glanced at his face and her lips curved in a secret smile as old as Eve’s before she leaned down, the tips of her breasts brushing his chest, her hands braced on his shoulders. “Like this?”
And she rode him, like a goddess triumphant, her face shining, her cunny gripping him fast and wet. He stared at her, even as his muscles tensed, even as he felt his lips draw back in a grimace of sexual bliss. She was too controlled, too assessing, and he was nearing his edge.
He caught her hand, bringing it to where they joined, pressing her fingers to her softness as her hips shuddered and lost their rhythm. “Touch yourself.”
He’d made it worse for himself; he knew it the moment her fingers curled into her pretty cunny. Her lips parted moistly, her head thrown back as she began to stroke herself, and it took everything he had to keep from spilling. To watch her pleasure herself as she rode his cock and not end this too soon.
“That’s it, darling,” he whispered low, coaching her, wanting to see her bring herself to fulfillment. “It’s sweet, isn’t it? Touching yourself, letting me watch. Do you like it? Do you enjoy putting on a show for me? Parting your pretty lips, letting me see how moist you’ve become, fucking yourself on me?”
The crudity seemed to jolt something within her. Her eyes widened, her back arched, and he felt the muscles of her sheath grip him tight, so tight.
Right before he lost control himself.
Chapter Sixteen
The great black horse came down off the Peak of Whispers and Faith saw before them a vast, barren plain, stretching as far as the eye could see.
“Is this Hell?” she murmured in the Hellequin’s ear. He shook his head. “This is the Plain of Madness. It will take us two days to cross it.”
She shivered and huddled closer to the Hellequin’s big form, for even with the cloak it was growing colder. And as she did so, she looked down and saw white wisps swirling aimlessly in the dust on the ground. …
—From The Legend of the Hellequin
“Sir.”
Godric came fully awake in the darkness of his own bedroom, aware that it’d been Moulder whispering.
He blinked at the manservant, raising his eyebrows as the man merely tilted his head toward the hallway. Moulder was dressed in a rather ornate orange banyan and tasseled cap and held a single candlestick in his hand.
Godric pulled the coverlet more securely around Megs’s shoulders and slipped carefully from the bed. He quickly donned breeches, shirt, and banyan and then padded out of the room after Moulder.
“What is it?” he asked once they had made the hallway without waking Megs.
“Mr. Makepeace,” Moulder replied. “He’s here and he insisted on speaking with you, despite the hour.”
Godric could think of only one reason for the home’s manager to call on him in the middle of the night. “Show me.”
They descended the stairs silently to the ground floor.
Makepeace turned as they entered the study. “I’m sorry to disturb you, St. John.” He eyed Moulder, standing beside the closed door, for a moment before raising his brows. “Perhaps we could speak privately?”
