Chapter Twenty-Eight
Ralston’s throat nearly closed and his brow furrowed with forced restraint.
She looked like a queen upon a throne. Gorgeous, seductive, confident, and powerful. He wanted to vow his undying fealty, pledge himself to her for every lifetime. He’d give her anything she asked of him…if she’d just open herself to his tongue.
“Crawl to me,” she commanded, her voice sultry. “Slowly, my love,” she clarified, “so I may enjoy the pleasure of how your magnificent body moves in the firelight.”
“Oui, Madame,” he graveled. Anything.
Leaning forward to his hands, he approached her on all fours.
And oddly, he did not feel diminished by the act.
Though he could easily have felt like a pet, he felt much more like a predator.
In fact, with every bit closer he prowled to her, he became more emboldened, gathering power with every flicker of her gaze, every swift draw of her breath.
She was enjoying this moment. Very much. And he was giving her that distinct pleasure.
He was desperate to give her more.
When he was nearly to her, she suddenly extended one bare foot and pressed her toes to his chest, halting his advance.
“Stop.” Her voice was a breathy gasp.
A growl rolled through him.
Though he immediately complied, it was clear to him that she wished him to continue toward her.
That she was trembling for him. He stared into her heavy-lidded gaze, silently begging her to allow him closer.
When she slowly slipped her foot to rest on his shoulder, he turned his head and pressed a hot kiss to the inside of her ankle.
Her sigh was a sultry sound that wound serpentlike through his blood.
Finding her desirous stare again, he asked, “May I come closer?”
Gold flared bright in her eyes. “You may.”
Her foot glided down his back and he crawled nearer to press a kiss against her inner knee. He could smell her now—a honeyed richness with the subtlest hint of red wine—and he breathed deep through his nose, drawing her essence into him.
He thought he heard a soft whimper escape her lips, but her voice was steady. “Closer, my love.”
He eased his broad shoulders between her thighs, then leaned forward to drop a heated kiss to her navel where the wine had left a tinted trail.
“Put your hands on me,” she ordered thickly, her eyes bright and heavy, her lips parted and glistening.
Resting back on his heels, he slid his hands up her legs until his palms were filled with the soft flesh of her hips and his fingers pressed into her round bottom.
His wife—his love, his bold mistress—stared at him, holding her breath. And he did the same.
Then slowly, deliberately, she leaned back in the chair, tilting her pelvis toward him.
“Taste me,” she breathed.
Ralston could not reply, not even to utter the necessary words of compliance. With a violent twist in his core, blood rushed to his cock, hardening him with painful swiftness as his full attention dropped to the apex of her creamy thighs.
With her legs parted around him, she was open and vulnerable to his hungry gaze. She was gorgeous.
Shifting his hands to her inner thighs, he spread them wider.
Though he could hear her breath shortening with anticipation, he could not tear his focus away from her dusky pink folds, glistening with the dew of her desire.
His heart thundered against his ribs and his cock leapt as he eased the flat of his thumb along her pretty flesh to the sensitive bud at the top.
His first circling caress drew a soft, guttural moan from her throat.
He flicked his gaze to her face.
She was stunning. Beautiful beyond measure.
Her lashes fluttered over her gaze as she watched him with those rich amber eyes.
Her cheeks were flushed and her bottom lip was held firm between even white teeth.
Though she spoke no words, her stare ordered him to continue.
To give her what she wanted. To take what he needed.
Holding that stare, he parted her satiny lips with his thumbs and leaned forward to drag his tongue along her opening.
She tasted of heaven and sin. Wickedness and paradise.
When he reached her swollen clitoris, he closed his mouth over it and suckled gently.
Her head fell back with a heavy gasp as she gripped the arms of the chair. He suckled and laved the sensitive bud with his tongue. Her moan was deep as she rolled her spine, offering herself to him, demanding more.
Ralston slipped his hands beneath her. Bracing his elbows, he lifted her to his mouth. Feasting with hedonistic fervor, he licked and sucked upon her flesh. He darted his tongue against her opening before thrusting deep to claim the richer flavors of her honeyed wine.
He wanted to savor the experience. But the fire inside him was raging.
His cock was throbbing painfully. Sexual hunger consumed him.
Only the lush and heady taste of her could satisfy the need inside him.
And as her moans grew deeper and her gasps shorter, he became even more ravenous and desperate to take her to that pinnacle, to feel the release of her pleasure and taste her climax.
Reaching up he covered her breast. Her nipple was hard and pebbled against his palm as he squeezed her soft flesh and flicked his tongue wildly over her clitoris.
On a throaty gasp, she opened her eyes and stared back at him.
Her breath came in pants and her thighs trembled against his shoulders.
Then her mouth opened but no sound escaped.
The muscles of her belly tightened and a moment later, he felt the first flutters of her release against his lips.
Moving his tongue in a rapid rhythm against her clitoris, he eased his finger inside her.
Her moan was deep as her body gave in to the rush of pleasure. Her inner muscles pulsed around his finger and her hand slid into his hair to hold him to her as she bucked against his mouth, wringing every bit of pleasure she could from his intimate kiss.
And when she finally softened, collapsing into the chair with a shaky sigh, Ralston pressed a final kiss to her sex and lifted his head.
A shock of pleasure shot through him at the full sight of her. Bared limbs and trembling belly. Flushed skin and a breathless stare that seared through him.
“Have I pleased you, Madame?” he asked, his voice raw and burning with his own desire.
She sighed and smiled. “Beyond words, my love.”
Then she curled toward him, slipping a hand around his nape, she pulled his mouth to hers and kissed him with a deep, luxurious sweep of her tongue. When she pulled back again, she looked fiercely into his eyes. “Take me to your bed.”
Power and a primitive sort of violent need rushed through him. In one fluid movement, he rose to his feet and scooped her up from the chair. Holding her high against his chest, he carried her across the room, through the connecting door, to his large four-poster bed.
Laying her down in the center of the plush mattress, he covered her. His hips lodged between her open thighs, his belly pressed to hers, and his arms bracketed her shoulders as he held her head in his hands.
He stared at her for an intense and silent moment as he gently swept his thumbs across her cheeks.
Then he murmured, “In this room…”
“I belong to you,” she vowed.
“I love you.”
A smile tilted her lips and she smoothed her hands up his back. “I love you.”
Then he dipped his head to press a kiss to her lips.
It started simple and sweet, but quickly deepened.
Parting her lips for a soft gasp of air, she met the languid sweep of his tongue with a twirl of her own.
And soon, he was taking her mouth as he’d taken her sex—with licks and thrusts and delicate teasing flicks.
Until she was moaning and her body rolled restlessly beneath him.
With every lick inside her mouth, his desire grew stronger.
His need to have her. His wife. This fascinating woman.
Charlotte reveled in the commanding, possessive nature of his kiss.
And the delicious heated weight of him pressing her into the mattress.
And the intimate pressure of his erection rocking against her vulnerable core.
She wanted everything he could give her.
She craved his hands on her body, his mouth—everywhere. His cock inside her.
Now.
Reaching down to palm his taut buttocks, she turned away from his wonderful mouth to murmur in a desperate plea, “Take me.”
The gruff sound he issued from his throat sent tingles down her spine as he shoved himself off her to kneel between her lax thighs. Holding her gaze with his, he released the fastening of his trousers and let them fall.
Charlotte gasped then moaned softly at the impressive sight of him.
His erection was beautiful as it bobbed against his flat, muscled belly.
Long and thick, the veined length appeared painfully hard.
Unthinking, she reached for him, encircling him at the base.
Though she kept her grip gentle, he grunted harshly at the contact, his body jolting.
She flicked a glance back to his face. He remained taut and utterly still, staring down at her, his hands tense but held carefully at his sides.
Power and gratitude and the deepest tenderness flowed through her as she slowly glided her hand up to his crown.
When her fingertips encountered moisture there, a rush of liquid heat flooded to her sex.
Giving him a gentle squeeze, she watched with a trembling belly as a drop of issue emerged from the small slit.
She immediately shifted beneath him, lifting herself to take him into her mouth with hunger and devotion.
As the drop touched her tongue, she moaned thickly.
He tasted like a summer ocean, bright and clean and salty.
Sliding her hand back down to the base, she felt the turgid heat of him, the strength, and the satin texture of his flesh.
When she brought her hand back up, she squeezed again, drawing forth more of his delicious taste.
She sucked on his cock, pulling his deep, sliding her lips down his length then up again, loving the heat and smoothness on her tongue.
He was magnificent. Stunning. Hers.
And though she loved the feel of him reaching deep into her throat, she wanted to feel him thrusting into the very heart of her.
Twirling her tongue along his ridged crown, she released him with a final flick against that slitted opening. As soon as she lifted her head and looked up at him, he growled so low and rough that her insides clenched.
Then he swiftly shucked his trousers down his legs and wrapped one arm around her to pull her into him. His gaze burned her soul as his mouth locked on hers with ferocious intent.
She clung to him, pulling him down atop her, wrapping her legs around him, and rocking her hips. He was clearly as desperate for their union as she was and did not resist her.
The tip of his cock easily found her slick entrance.
And as he slowly, torturously pressed forward, claiming space inside her aching core, he took her head in his hands again and lavished her mouth with deep, drugging kisses.
When he was so completely inside her that she could feel the pulse of his heartbeat against her womb, he stilled and looked into her eyes.
In silence, they stared at each other. Unmoving. Without words, they acknowledged that moment of intimate connection. The sense of their two existences becoming one.
Then he slowly withdrew, ensuring she felt every bit of his erection along the heightened sensitivity of her nerves.
When just the tip of him remained inside her, she gasped and lifted her hips and tried to reclaim all of him.
But he denied her. For just a moment. Until she issued a sound of frustration and gripped his buttocks in a silent urging.
Only then did he flex his hips and plunge into her, claiming her breath, her heart, her very soul. And before she could regain her sanity, he began a fierce rhythm of thrust and retreat, showing her with his body how she belonged to him. And he belonged to her.
Though he was no longer firmly in the role of submissive, Charlotte discovered she could not take his place. She was too needful in her desire, too insistent in the seeking of her pleasure. Too desperate for him.
But there quickly developed between them a beautiful balance of push and pull, give and take. They loved with an equal fervor, an equal claiming of power and demand, an equal surrender to each other.
It was the same as they embarked on their life together.
They learned to approach almost everything in the same way.
They argued and compromised and grew into better people because of each other.
Their mutual respect became unshakable, as did their quest for happiness.
And they found it. The only exception to the unwavering balance they established in their relationship was when Ralston came to Charlotte in her bedroom.
In that room…he utterly and completely belonged to her.