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Then he started moving, the length of him dragging across the sensitive tissues inside me, and I was lost in a sea of sensation. My body surrendered to his, accommodating his thick shaft, welcoming him, and pleasure coiled inside me like a spring. With me naked and him fully clothed, it felt debauched. Secret and naughty.
Just like my undergarments.
The silk of his vest swiped across my swollen nipples, and he hit a spot in my channel each time that caused me to see stars. “Oh God, Bax.”
“Yeah? You feeling it, widow?”
Long dark hair fell over his brow and his gaze was hooded with lust. He looked like the devil himself and I clutched at him, never wanting this to end. It was a high I had never imagined, so much better than when I touched myself.
“I feel it.” I lifted slightly and pressed my lips to the skin of his throat, needing more of him. Needing to connect with him in every possible place. “God, yes. I feel it.”
“You’re so fucking tight. I need you to come.”
I dragged my teeth down his neck, across the tendons. I could almost taste his strength and power. “I’m so close.”
Pushing up on his arms, he said, “Touch yourself while I fuck you. Do it now, and do it fast. I can’t hold out much longer.”
Without an ounce of shame, I followed his instructions. The second I started rubbing my clitoris, I could feel the pressure building inside, a huge wave coming toward me. The intimate touch, combined with Bax’s fullness, was too much. I didn’t have a hope of withstanding it.
He was watching me, his keen eyes on my face. As he pounded into me, he practically snarled, more animal than man.
I loved it.
His voice was pure wickedness. “That’s it. You’re my good girl, aren’t you, Belle? You’re letting me in, so deep inside you. Just me. No other man will ever have you.” He started riding me faster, his hips churning. “You’remine.”
The words took me right over the edge and into the heavens, cast up into the stars and light. A shout ripped from my throat to echo in the room. I held on tight, Bax anchoring me as the muscles in my body convulsed, my walls grasping, pulling him in.
As I started to float down to earth, Bax’s hips stuttered, his mouth stretched into a grimace. “Shit, goddamn it. I shouldn’t—”
Roaring, he kept pressing and rocking, his eyelids slammed tight. The harsh lines of his face eased in his climax and I loved watching the transformation. This powerful and dangerous man was losing himself in my body, his shaft swelling and pulsing.
It was perfect.
When he slowed, he shook his head. “Just this once. I swear it, Belle.”
I pulled him down for a very thorough kiss. “Just once, what?”
“I won’t spend inside you again,” he said against my mouth. “I couldn’t control it this time, but I’ll do better next time.”
Oh, right. This was how men and women procreated.
My skin heated. I was so foolish. I knew babies resulted from when a man and a woman were in bed together, but I hadn’t known exactly how until now. It had taken seeing him spend last night in the handkerchief to having him inside me right now. “You must think I’m silly for not knowing this.”
“I could never think you’re silly. I blame your father, the women in your life—your entire uptown world—for not teaching you.” He kissed me long and hard, our rough exhales mingling as our bodies cooled.
Then he shoved up on his arms and his softened shaft slid from my channel. He moved toward my toes and settled between my legs. I didn’t understand what he was doing when he pushed my thighs wider. “Oh, fuck,” he whispered as he used one finger to trace my entrance. “There we are. Look at my come mixed with your blood and cream.”
After swirling his finger just inside my channel, he lifted it to his mouth and licked the mixture off. His lids fell as his face slackened with pleasure. “Christ almighty.”
Then he reached to gather more and held his finger up to my mouth. I didn’t hesitate. I opened my lips and let him feed it to me, and the combined taste of us exploded on my tongue. Copper and salt. It was strange, but not bad.
And I liked the idea that it was from the two of us.
A deep groan rumbled out of his chest. “I won’t come in you again, I promise.”
Then he stood, his thick member hanging down between his legs, and began removing his clothing. No doubt he was trying to distract me from the conversation . . . and it worked. The more he removed, the more fascinated I became with his body. Rough skin stretched over wide shoulders and a broad chest, showing sleek muscles that were not honed in a boxing ring or on the back of a horse. He was pure New York street tough, wiry and strong. A god in silk and wool.
My heart flipped, giddiness filling my lungs—and I froze. What was happening to me? Was I developing feelings for him?
