Chapter 8 #2
When they were done, they stood, panting, gazes roaming. There had not been time to look at the man she’d chosen to initiate her before. He hadn’t allowed it. And she’d been too apprehensive to ask. Fumbling in the dark, pain, then him leaving the bed to put on his trousers.
Chance Allerton allowed her curiosity free rein.
After a languid journey along the muscle and sinew of his finely toned body, she met his gaze. He had the physique of an active man. Unlike anyone she’d yet seen in the ton .
His throat worked, his lids fluttering, his breath slipping out in a rush. “You’re the most stunning woman I’ve ever seen. And bloody hell , I really thought I knew what to expect.”
She started to argue, tell him he was mistaken. That he was the beautiful one. But he shook his head, backing her into the bed before she could. Where she went down. And he crawled over her.
She stopped him, hand on his chest.
He looked up, through a swing of tangled, damp dark-as-midnight hair. “Is this too fast?” His shoulders rose and fell. “Stop me. Tell me no.”
She giggled, trailing her finger down his chest to his belly.
His muscles quivered beneath her palm. His cock was jammed between them, against her thigh, hard and hot.
It twitched with his effort to hold himself back.
She wanted to wrap her hands around it but wasn’t sure if she should.
“I merely wanted a moment to look. I’m going to capture you on paper, like I’ve wished to for months .
I’m as enthralled with your body as you are with mine. I want to remember.”
His smile was glorious, softening his features, a sweetness that made her heart stutter.
His eyes shimmered in the dim light, inviting her in.
“There’s no bloody way that could be true, sweetheart.
My adoration is fierce. More than I’ve felt in my life.
Yours can’t compare, though I’m thankful for it. ”
Then, he took her under. Weight pressing her into the mattress.
Braced on his forearms, he kissed her hungrily, his hand finding her breast, his thumb her hardened peak.
Circling, palming, until she lost reason entirely, her head rolling to the side.
She arched into him, seeking more. Perhaps she even whispered it.
Her body was melting, racing away from her and toward him.
With a muffled groan, he caressed his way down her body.
Sensation exploded as his lips circled her nipple, rolling it gently between his teeth. “Shall I make you come like a proper Englishman, my American jewel? Very thorough but at a dignified pace. The English disposition is good for something, I suppose.”
He notched himself between her legs, working his hips from side to side.
Deliberately, until her vision blurred. Dear heaven, she’d never imagined this was a whole-body experience.
Skin slick from exertion, bodies grinding like they were polishing stone.
Lifting her leg high on his hip, he leaned over her, working one breast, then the other with his lips and fingers.
“I have one question.” He blew a purposeful breath over the now-sizzling nub, making her gasp.
His hand snaked between their bodies, fingers dancing south.
Between her thighs, parting her folds, he slid a finger gently inside.
Stroking tenderly as she sighed, hips lifting.
Deeper, then deeper still. “Would you like to crest the first time with my cock inside you or my tongue?”
Grasping the counterpane as he began to pump his hand, she whispered hoarsely, “Cock first, tongue after. If I’m allowed both. Then sketching, like you promised.”
She realized he’d halted, his movement stilling. Soaring from the passionate sea he’d tossed her into, she opened her eyes to find his expression filled with disbelief. A howling gust of wind rattled the windowpanes as they stared. His lips parted, but it was a minute before any words came out.
“Where did you come from, Francine Shaw? You’re my dream come to life. Such. A. Dream . I fear if I touch you, you’ll disappear, a misty yearning deep in my soul evaporating into the night.”
She raised to her elbow and reached for his shaft, wrapping her hand around him. Hard, smooth, sleek. He was beautiful, ravenous, cheeks flushed, skin moist. He moaned softly, his lids quivering. “Stay.”
“I’m not going anywhere, Chance.”
With a sigh, he tore into her. The kiss feral, then he was gone, sliding down her body for real this time. Caressing her ribs, her belly, the side of her breast. While pumping his finger in long, sluggish strokes inside her, seeking to drive her mad.
Although she’d asked for the other first, he moved between her legs, nipping her hipbone, his bristly cheeks grazing her thighs, his mouth delving between her moist folds until she arched and moaned, turning into someone she didn’t recognize.
He took the pebbled bit of hidden flesh between his lips and sucked, groaning into her skin, his own pleasure breaking the surface.
His tongue and finger worked in tandem, in a coordinated, furious pace.
She cried out. There was no way to contain her rapture, the sound and scent of them infusing the air.
A rush of sensation crept from the base of her spine, threatening to consume her. Curling her toes, her fingers going into fists, her body arching.
In moments, she was coated in dew, heat, arousal. Wrapped up and around him. Mindless, starved for pleasure. For him.
“ Now ,” she said and lifted her hips, needing, wanting. Begging. She wanted him to take her to that place. Now. Now. Now .
“Look at me,” he murmured against her thigh, his tongue drawing a maddening, lazy circle. “A sketch for your collection. Or maybe we’ll make art right here. I’ll trace on your bare skin with my fingertips and solve for the complexities of the design with my tongue.”
She followed orders—and knew she’d never forget the sight of Chance Allerton stretched across the bed, his muscled arms wrapped around her legs, his dark head resting between her thighs.
She should have been embarrassed. When all she felt was a nagging sense of rightness and humbly fragile ownership.
She didn’t want him to do this with another woman. Ever . That wish was clear.
The wind whipped against the windows, howling, drowning out their staggered breaths.
Growling faintly, he nipped her thigh, her belly, levering on his forearms and rising over her.
His fingers leaving her only to nudge his shaft into place at her entrance.
“You are delectable. I hardly know how to contain my avarice. An unfamiliar occurrence. A gift delivered to my doorstep that I’m bloody accepting even if I shouldn’t. ”
She arched her hips, seeking. “Quit talking,” she rasped against his neck when he lowered himself over her. His delicious weight sinking them into the mattress. “Start doing.”
Laughing, he grasped her arm and pinned it over her head, sampling the hard nipple thrust against his cheek by the movement. “What a little bulldog you are. My gorgeous American bulldog.”
“I know what I want.” She angled his mouth back to hers. “Why act like I don’t? I don’t understand that about this country. Every desire hidden beneath a thousand layers of dread.”
“Why, indeed.” Sighing raggedly, he accepted her offer, kissing her while he nudged his shaft between her slick folds, then with a jolt, sliding inside her. A gradual possession. Measured. Determined. Filling her, changing her. Rocking movements that she caught on to quickly.
It was the most natural of unnatural performances. Addictive from the start. She closed her eyes to the glory, skin tingling, air trapped in her lungs. Positioning her bent leg against his hip, he shifted and eased deeper into her, the push and pull lighting a fire inside her.
More and less as he stroked. Waging a war.
To go faster, to linger. To speed up, to slow.
He got her close to a summit, her brusque entreaties filling the silence, the creak of the bed marking their tempo, then he paused, murmuring profane suggestions in her ear.
Every one of them—bending her over his desk, having her ride him, filling her again and again—increased the delight she chased.
Until she was bound to him, a quivering, helpless mass of nerve endings.
She caught his shoulder, his jaw. Fingers tangling in his hair. Nails digging into the band of muscle around his forearms. Urging him, biting him, hips lifting, bumping in a synchronized cadence.
It was brutal, magnificent elegance.
Sensation gathered, and this time, he let it build.
Rocking from tip to base, fully owning her.
Entrenched as far as possible one moment, almost sliding out the next.
His arms trembled where he held himself over her.
Dropping his brow to her shoulder, he took gasping breaths and murmured lost bits of nothing in her ear.
“Close,” he said, the word wrenched from him. “ Close . Come with me.”
She shook her head wildly, unable to reply. Unable to do more than move with him, hold him, possess him as he possessed her. Swearing beneath his breath, his hand slipped between their bodies, grazing the swollen nub just above where he penetrated her.
Circling, pressing, demanding her release .
It was enough. Too much. Everything .
He knew exactly how to touch her, exactly what she needed.
Finally, splendidly, her climax ripped through her. Dimming her vision, snatching her breath. Her hands flew to the counterpane, fisting, body bowing. Her cry was savage, and he seized her lips, swallowing the sound lest it rouse the household.
He tangled himself around her, grinding, moist skin and fury, his release claiming him. They gasped and panted, bumped and shifted, sighs, groans, murmurs filling the dark night. Drawing forth every last bit of pleasure.
Finally, his weight settled upon her in surrender.
It was the most animalistic experience of her life. Incredible and tumultuous. She felt turned inside out, like a piece of clothing ripped from one’s body.
She was ruined. In the best way possible.
“Remy,” she murmured against his temple, a bead of sweat streaking down his jaw to her cheek.
He took her with him when he rolled away, tucking her against his side. His lips dusted her brow, a haphazard caress. His chest rose and fell in a mad rhythm. “Remy,” he repeated in a sleepy, sated murmur. Stretching, he sighed in gratifying contentment and hugged her close.
She sought to ask him if lovemaking was always like this.
Life-altering. Crushing. So, so beautiful.
Adorable, troublesome man, exhaustion claimed him before she could.