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He stood perfectly still as she slid the fine lawn of his shirt over his shoulders. “I’m sorry,” she pressed an open-mouthed kiss on his chest, “about accusing you of wearing a corset.” Her fingernail circled one of his nipples. “It’s clear I might be in need of spectacles.”
“Finally, you admit it.”
“You are truly a spectacular example of an elderly earl.” Rosalind grazed her teeth along the line of his ribs even as her fingers worked the top button of his trousers. “Do you want to put your cock in my mouth?”
Torrington went completely still. She’d shocked both of them with her brazen statement.
“You’re always looking at my mouth.” Rosalind continued to tug at the buttons of his trousers. “I saw the way you looked at me when I licked the custard off your fingers. And at the park.” She looked up at him. “I’m curious. Tell me what to do.”
Torrington closed his eyes, cursing before opening them again. He was looking at her as if he’d never seen her before. So full of male hunger she nearly regretted being so brave.
“Get on your knees, Rosalind.”
Rosalind lowered herself before him, her hands sliding up his muscled thighs, grabbing at the flesh beneath the fabric of his trousers. The buttons slid free, and Rosalind tugged at the material until—
Oh. Goodness.She’d seen the drawings in her father’s books, of course. Known what a man’s appendage looked like. Knew to call it acock. Rosalind had even studied the detailed description of how to perform the act of putting a man’s cock in your mouth, especially after the custard tasting with Torrington. But—her fingers traced reverently down the long, thick length of him. Having no other man to compare him to, she wasn’t sure if his size was normal or—her hand wrapped around him. The reality was rather daunting.
Torrington hissed. Loudly.
Her tongue flicked out, touching just the tip. There was a saltiness to him. An aroma of cedar and musk. She thought of how she’d licked the custard off his fingers.
Another groan and both his hands threaded through her hair, tugging at the ends. “Did you read about this?”
“Yes.” Rosalind parted her lips and looked up at Torrington, never breaking eye contact as she slid his cock into her mouth. Her tongue swirled around the length, sucking and licking. Tasting him.
Torrington made the most interesting sounds, which made her own body ache in response.
Rosalind tried to recall what else she was supposed to do, but her own arousal muddled her thoughts.Oh. Yes.
“Jesus, Rosalind.” Torrington gasped as she grabbed his ball sac, rotating it gently between her fingers. “I hope you brought those damned books with you. I think—” His words were cut off as her teeth grazed around his cock. His fingers fisted in her hair, pulling her away.
Had she done it wrong? Rosalind looked up at him. “Didn’t you like it?”
Torrington went to his knees across from her. “You are a wondrous creature, Lady Torrington.” He kissed her softly. “But I don’t want this evening to end too soon, and it will if I allow you to continue.”
They fell to the rug together, a mass of limbs and mouths, stroking hands and tongues. His fingers teased at the wetness between her thighs, making her arch against his hand. Bits of lace and ribbon were pulled from her.
Rosalind’s legs parted further, allowing him access to all of her. She wanted him to touch her, kiss her, lick her. Everywhere. Her hands ran up his chest, the crisp hair sifting through her fingers. The warm feel of Torrington’s mouth at her breast sent the pressure inside her to a feverish point.
His bigger body wedged itself between her spread legs. His marvelous cock, the saltiness of which she could still taste on her tongue, lay hot against her thigh.
Torrington lifted his head. “It hurts the first time.”
“I know. I don’t care. I’m ready. I feel as if I will burn into ash if you don’t—ravish me, Bram.”
“I know, my love.” His thumb and forefinger gently teased the small nub hidden in her folds. He coaxed another kiss from her lips while the lower half of her body tightened beneath the ministrations of his fingers.
“Bram,” she choked out, feeling pleasure rise in a huge wave where he held her just at the top before allowing the sensation to crash over her. Her hips bucked as each ripple of pleasure struck her. His hand fell away, sliding along one thigh to take firm hold of her hip.
Her eyes popped open, widening at the sensation of being stretched as he pressed into her. With each contraction of her body, he slid further inside her, until he finally wrapped one arm firmly around her neck and thrust forward.
Rosalind’s body arched. Theodosia was correct. It did hurt. Quite a bit.
A cry shook her, though she tried to bite it back. Considering how lustful Rosalind felt nearly all the time around Torrington and her boldness in taking him in her mouth, it was a bit of a disappointment to know she would feel the same pain as any uneducated, unwilling virgin on her wedding night.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered.
“Why on earth”—Torrington sounded as if he was struggling—“would you be sorry about anything?” He kissed the end of her nose. Her forehead. “Relax, Rosalind. Breathe.” He stayed perfectly still. “I meant to do this properly in a bed. I have a nice one just upstairs.”
