Page 61 of The Earl’s Forbidden Temptation

Instead, heat rushed through her.

She twisted her fingers into the silk as Sebastian’s hands remained upon her hips, his thumbs moving in slow, almost absent caresses over her skin. She could feel the warmth of him behind her, could sense the weight of his attention traveling over her nakedness, and anticipation gathered until even the cool air against her exposed flesh seemed unbearably sensual.

“How pretty your pussy is,” he murmured.

Darcy shivered.

The word was vulgar, wicked, and upon his lips devastatingly intimate. She had heard such language within Aphrodite, had even painted acts far more scandalous than the one unfolding now, yet nothing had prepared her for Sebastian speaking so about her body while she knelt naked and offered before him.

“How wet,” he continued, his voice roughening. “How ready.”

A helpless whimper escaped her. Darcy pressed her burning cheek more firmly into the pillow as another rush of desire gathered between her thighs. There was something almost unbearable about being admired by him so openly, about knowing that this beautiful, experienced man was looking upon her with such unabashed hunger.

And still his hands moved gently over her, one sliding between her thighs until his fingers traced the slick seam of her sex.

Oh God.

Her clitoris throbbed for his touch. For him.

“For ten days you stayed away,” he murmured. “The taste of your cunt haunted me every damned night. Tonight, I am going to love you slowly.” His hand lingered between her thighs. “And I am also going to fuck you.”

Two fingers slid deep inside her.

Darcy gasped, her fingers twisting into the sheets as he stroked into her with maddening deliberation.

“For the next few days, whenever you sit, I want you to feel the soreness and remember how thoroughly my cock fucked you.” His voice had gone rough, the obscenity of his words at startling odds with the tenderness of his touch. “I want you haunted by me when we are apart. Do you understand?”

Heat flooded Darcy’s belly. Her entire body trembled, desire climbing so swiftly beneath his words that she scarcely knew whether she wanted to hide her burning face in the pillow or beg him for everything he threatened to give her.

That contradiction undid her most of all. He spoke with the wickedness of the rake she had painted and secretly craved, while his hands treated her with almost unbearable care. His fingers moved slowly within her pussy, each deep stroke sending pleasure burning through her, while his other hand caressed the curve of her hip and wandered along her waist as though he had all the time in the world to learn every inch of her. Darcy trembled beneath him, caught between tenderness and debauchery, until the need became almost unbearable and she wanted to turn beneath him and plead for whatever wicked pleasure had put that rough hunger into his voice.

His fingers withdrew from her sex, and Darcy nearly cried out in protest. Before she could, Sebastian’s lips found the delicate curve of her spine, trailing slow kisses downward. His teeth grazed the soft swell of her buttock in a playful nip that startled a gasp from her.

Then he shifted behind her.

Darcy felt the blunt head of his cock press against her entrance, slick with her arousal, and a needy whimper escaped her. Instinctively, she pushed back against him, aching to take him deeper.

“We shall go slowly,” he murmured, his voice a low caress. “Your pussy is still too tight for the fucking we are both aching for.”

“Sebastian…” she moaned, desire and impatience tangling in the sound.

“Do not worry.” His hands settled firmly upon her hips. “Before this night is over, I shall give you the ride we both need.”

Heat flared, hot and delicious, low in her belly. Sebastian pressed into her with agonizing slowness, stretching her and filling her. She whimpered at the tight, almost painful stretch despite her wetness, her fingers curling into the sheets as he pressed forward in slow, relentless increments. Broken moans escaped her in a desperate, pleading rhythm until at last he was seated to the hilt, buried deep inside her, and Darcy could do nothing but tremble beneath the overwhelming fullness of him.

Once buried to the hilt, he held still to give her time to adjust, his hands stroking the curve of her hips.

“Red,” he breathed, his voice thick with wonder. “Why the hell does being inside you feel this good?”

Then he began to move in slow, deep thrusts that rocked her forward with each stroke. She could feel every ridge of him, every pulse of his desire, as he fucked her with a tenderness that belied the primal rhythm of their bodies. His hand slid beneath her, finding her pearl, circling it in time with his movements.

“Oh,” she gasped, the pleasure building, coiling low in her belly. “Please!”

“Please what?” he growled, his pace quickening just slightly.

That sensual drawl rasped over her skin, raising a fine shiver along her arms.

“I need more,” she whimpered, gripping the sheets between her fingers.