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“Oh,” she moaned. “Oh. Drew.”
He didn’t stop moving his tongue until her hips stopped moving and she fell limp against the bed, hands leaving his head.
He rose and climbed onto the bed, fitting his body around her.
She was smiling. She turned sleepy eyes toward him. “That felt marvelous.”
“And?”
“You were definitely a wicked rake. Still are, though you try to deny it.”
He kissed her lips. “I’m not nearly finished proving myself yet.”
Her breath hitched. He laid a hand over one of her breasts, testing the weight and curvature. So delectable, her nipples prominent through the thin cambric of her shift.
He’d been known for his stamina—how long he made lovemaking last—and tonight would be no exception.
Not that his stamina would be put to the test tonight—things would never go that far. No, it would be her endurance that was tested. How many times he made her come.
How many times she’d moan his name.
He propped himself on his elbow while he continued his slow, unhurried exploration. Pulling the bodice of her gown down, uncovering her breasts, fabric sliding over shell-pink nipples.
Her eyes were huge as she watched him. He lowered his head.
“Drew.” A sweet little moan as his lips covered her nipple.
Sugary nipples under his tongue. He gave it the same treatment, fluttering his tongue and licking around the contours and then sucking gently.
The other nipple now, the same swirling and sucking, the same care and attention, giving everything to this moment, unhurried.
While he explored, he listened. The bliss of it when she arched into his mouth. The joy of her small hand settled on his head, not to push him away, but to become buried in his hair, to urge him on.
He rolled on top of her and wrapped his arm around her waist, holding her to him as he delved into her mouth and she answered, kissing him back with urgency.
A moan escaped his mouth and she answered with a soft sound that was music and fireworks and all the sustenance he’d ever need for the rest of his life.
He slid his fingers across the seam of her thighs. She shivered and her thighs opened slightly.
Not yet. All the time in the world to lose himself in the music of her sighs. There should be a symphony called Kissing Mina.
He slid his cock against her mound through the fabric of her shift.
“Drew.” Her eyes flew open.
“Do you want me to stop?”Please don’t want me to stop. I want to make you come again. And again.
“No, I...” Her hands grabbed fistfuls of bedclothes. “I want...” She rubbed her pelvis against his cock in a wordless request.
Thathe could give her. “You want to come again.”
“Y-yes.”
“You will.” He kissed her forehead. “Here’s what you’re going to do. I’m not going to move, you’re going to move. You’re going to find your pleasure.”
He lifted his hips and freed his straining cock, pausing for a moment to squeeze the head to discourage him from being too eager.
He showed her what he meant, moving her shift aside and guiding her seam against his cock, indicating that he wouldn’t move, he was hers to use.
