Page 75 of This Marquess of Mine

He worked his way down her body, bunching her skirts up as he went, his gaze greedy, devouring every inch he uncovered. He bent his head and pressed a kiss to her knee as he settled between her delectable thighs.

The scent of her arousal, sweet and tangy, shot lust through his belly to his groin and he groaned. God, she was so wet, so pink and perfect. He leaned in, craving a taste, and brushed his lips against her sensitive flesh.

Her hand grasped his shoulder and squeezed, but she made not a sound. Not even at the first touch of his tongue.

He worked her over with soft flicks and firm strokes until she was writhing against his mouth, her hips and hands frenzied with her need.

She was no longer mute, but muted whimpers and groans escaped from her throat as she tried, and failed, to keep quiet. He loved her like this, desperate, unraveled.

Unraveled because of him.

“Griffin…” His name was barely a whisper on her lips, but he sensed the want in it, the plea to ease her torment.

With quickened strokes of his tongue, he focused his attentions where he knew she wanted them most, letting her body be his guide. She wove her fingers through his hair as the muscles in her thighs began to tremble and as the first tremor took hold, Griffin eased a finger into her wet heat.

She cried out, her body stiffening and clenching around him as she found her release. Griffin nearly joined her, so acute was his arousal, his cock stiff and aching inside his trousers.

But he was no innocent lad. The days of spending in his pants were long behind him.

He sat up and leaned his weight on one hand.

Her eyes opened and met his. “Goodness.”

He smiled, inordinately pleased by the edge of wonder in her voice.

“I wasn’t quiet, was I?” she said, her expression sweetly flustered.

“Not very. No.”

She blew out a breath, as if baffled by her own behavior. “I couldn’t help it. Not with your mouth on my…” Her hand flicked down her body, filling in the blanks.

Griffin’s smile widened. “Yes, I noticed.”

She studied him in silence for a moment, and then spoke. “Would you…” She paused and licked her lips then started again. “Do you think you would suffer the same affliction? If I were to…kiss you the same way?”

God. His grin faltered and he swallowed hard. Just the thought of her mouth on his cock made him want to howl, but this night was supposed to be hers, not his. And he was determined to make it everything she wanted it to be.

Even if he perished in the process.

“I can almost guarantee it, petal.”

Her eyes sparked with interest. “May I find out for certain?”

His cock throbbed with an interest of its own. “You may do anything you like,” he answered, keeping his voice even, though his body thrummed with anticipation.

She rose to a sitting position and chewed her lip thoughtfully, as if plotting out her best strategy.

“Will you lie down?” she asked. “Like I was?”

He did as she requested, trading places with her and leaning back against the arm of the chaise with his legs stretched out before him.

Then, heart thudding, he laced his fingers behind his head and waited for her next move.

Olivia had no ideawhere to begin, but she knew one thing for certain. She’d never seen a more arousing sight in her life than the one before her now.

Griffin lay sprawled on the chaise, watching her with patient eyes, the lean muscles in his bare chest and arms gleaming in the low firelight.

An artist’s dream subject.