Page 106 of A Deal with the Devil

Infuriating.

She subsided, trying to be patient. The grass was touching the back of her legs but he wasn’t. It was touching her ankles, her arms. Her neck. But he wasn’t.

And he wouldn’t.

She swallowed back another demand.

He closed his hand around her calf, fingers warm and strong. “Good girl.” He stroked up her leg, thumb digging into the softness of her inner thigh. “You’ve carried everything for too long. This time I’m in charge.” He shoved her skirts higher, brushing her quim lightly. Again. And again. He bent his head to kiss along her collarbone, to dip his tongue under her bodice.

He moved lower and lower, his breath warm on her belly, stirring the hair below. He licked at her opening, then around her bud. He used the tip of his tongue, then the flat of it, applied more pressure, less pressure. Used his fingers to part her folds, slick with her need. There was a rhythm to his attention that she had not noticed until the pressure mounted inside her, sparking through her core. “Rhys.”

“Not yet.”

“But…” She couldn’t stop it, did not want to. Why would she want to?

“I said not yet.” He eased back, and she whimpered, chasing the sparks, the crest. “Didn’t I tell you not to interrupt me?” he asked with false regret. “Now I have to start all over again.”

“Rhys!”

“Hush.”

She was not going to survive this. It was torture.

It was perfect.

He continued to nibble and suck and lick up and down her body, to slide his fingers into her, first one then two, but always pulling back when she neared her climax—when her gasps tore from her, when she dug her fingers into his hair and he chuckled, clearly pleased. Another lick, a deeper thrust. And then he pulled her entire bud into his mouth and worked it gently, relentlessly. She bucked against his mouth. “Please. Please, please, please.” Was she begging? Demanding? She had no idea. “Please, Rhys.”

“I do so love it when you beg,” he growled against her swollen, pulsing bud. “Come, Kitty. Now.”

She had never followed orders in her life. She had never wanted to.

“Don’t keep me waiting.”

Whatever he did with his mouth sent her careering over the edge. Her climax washed through her so abruptly, so deeply, that it stole her breath, her ability to think. There were only the waves of sensations claiming her. Devil smiling against her most private parts. She jerked when he kissed her, she was that sensitive.

“Do you really want to know that I think of you?” he asked, reaching up to release the cravat that bound her.

She nodded mutely. She was boneless, wordless, floating.

“I think you’re too damned good to lie on the cold ground.”

He flipped her so suddenly that she squeaked a laugh. It was no surprise to her that Devil was incredibly skilled with his mouth and his hands and his entre sculpted, beautiful body. No surprise that he would pull pleasure from her like he was merely claiming something that already belonged to him. It was still a surprise, though, how much she enjoyed being with him. How they could grin at each other, even now, half naked and half spent in the back garden, her secrets and her body bared to the starlight.

She straddled him, her knees in the grass. His cock pushed at his breeches until she freed him, gripping him tight enough that he bucked in her hand. She dragged the tip between her folds, once twice.

“Are you teasing me, firecracker?” he asked between clenched teeth, gripping her hips.

“You deserve it.”

“Probably.”

He did deserve it. And she would happily oblige. Next time. Should there be a next time.

Please let there be a next time.

But he was so hard it looked painful, and she wanted to feel him inside of her right now. She rubbed against him just because she could, because it made his green eyes go glassy. And then she fit the tip of him inside of her and lowered, down, down, inch by glorious inch until he was swearing and she was moaning. She was stretched and filled; every thrust made her see stars.

He ran his hands up her ribcage and teased her breasts free over the top of her bodice. “Perfect,” he grunted. She felt positively wanton, in the most delicious way, her skirts pulled up, her dress pulled down, undulating over Devil, pulling him deeper until the sparks built again, pressure building and mounting, until her hips stuttered and he surged up, coming hard.