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A soft rumble came from his throat. “Mmm... You like that, too, don’t you, Adelaide? When I tell you how good you are? How much you please me when you talk about your pleasure.”
“Yes,” she whispered.
“Good girl,” he said, the words sending a sizzle of pleasure through her.
And then he rewarded her honesty with a long, slow lick that set her entirely on fire. She cried out at the pleasure, at the way he lingered at the top of her pussy, and when he lifted his head, she was panting and her body was no longer hers, her hips lifting toward him, her fingers itching to capture his hair and return him to his position.
He knew it, too, the gleam in his knowing gaze an arrogant promise. “I have no intention ofsimply fuckingyou, Adelaide. There is nothing simple about what I intend to do to you. There is nothing simple about the ways I intend to touch you. About the ways I intend to kiss you.” God, his fingers were there, at her core, sliding one finger through the soft curls that shielded her, parting her folds. “And when I do... there will be nothing simple about that, either.”
She was vibrating with excitement, the feel of the silken promise on the most private part of her. She’d never wanted anything as much as she wanted him.
And then he said, “But I’m not going to fuck you tonight, love.”
“You aren’t?”
He wasn’t?
“No,” he said to her core, stroking over the wet heat of her, two fingers now, up and down in slow, excruciating movements that made her want to scream and cry and laugh. He pushed them inside her heat, giving her a taste of what she wanted. A hint of what it would be like to be full of him, strong and deep.
A pause, and then, “Well, maybe a little fucking.”
How was it that the accent honed in Mayfair and Eton and Oxford and the House of Lords made the curse sound even more filthy? She couldn’t help herself. She moved against him, urging him deeper. “Yes. Please.”
“Is this what you need?”
She closed her eyes at the soft caress and let out a low moan of pleasure. “Hmm.” That sound, low and rich, and full of discovery. And then he added his thumb, circling, searching, finding the places that made her gasp and sigh, and the whole time, talking. “You’re so wet here. So soft.” He pressed a kiss to the inside of her thigh. Whispered, “So sweet.”
He worked a tight circle where pleasure pooled and she cried out. “There!”
“You like that, too.” His reply was so arrogant that she would have happily kicked him if he weren’t the instrument of her undoing.
“Don’t stop,” she panted.
He didn’t. But he did ask, “Are you sure?”
“God, yes.”
He moved faster, circling tighter, and she lifted herself again, riding his touch, knowing that later—much later—she’d be embarrassed of her wantonness. Of thespectacle she made with her desire. But right now, she did not care. Right now, all she wanted was his touch on her.
All she wanted was him.
“So pretty,” he whispered. “So perfect.”
She wasn’t, she knew. But in that moment, she believed him. “Please don’t stop.”
She tensed as her climax rushed toward her, just as his fingers thrust deep, deeper, matching the rhythm of her hips, the staccato sound of her breath, harsh and desperate.
So desperate. It wasn’t enough. “Henry...”
She didn’t have to say more. To ask for more. He already knew. “Hmm.” That noise she was coming to revel in—the one that said he was thinking about all the wicked things he might do with her.
And before Adelaide could think of those wicked things, he was doing them, settling his mouth to the place just above his fingers, where she ached for him, wringing a curse from her.
Sliding her fingers into his hair, she pressed against him, his growl of approval making her wild, making her beg for more even as he gave her exactly what she wanted, his mouth like a gift. Like paradise.
His tongue licked over her, exploring the dark, wet, heat of her in every fathomable way—when long, firm strokes had her panting, he slowed to delicious torture that made her curse and thrust and ache and plead, and then, draping her thighs over his shoulders, spreading his large hands over her bottom, lifting her close, speeding up, dancing over her until her eyes flew open and she stared down her body to meet the blue fire in his gaze. Smug, satisfied, sinful fire.
“That’s it.” He spoke to the core of her, the vibration making her tremble, her fingers tightening in his hair. “Take it.”
