Chapter Seven #2
“Not yet,” he said in a whisper as he palmed her breasts through the fine lawn of her shift. Those quivering globes filled his hands and made him want to thank whatever deity was listening for making her so perfect.
At least for him. If only in this moment.
“I… Oh…” Penelope scrabbled her fingers over the leather of the sofa.
“Cornelius, I…” Her back arched with every pass of his fingers.
Each time he rubbed them over her nipples, she shivered.
Then, because he needed more, it was far too easy to relieve her of the remaining garment that hid her form from him.
As she only wore stockings and garters, he reacquainted himself with every inch of her skin.
When he took one of those stiff peaks into his mouth, suckled it, worried it with the tip of his tongue, she moaned.
“This is wonderful.” A sigh escaped her.
“Weymouth never did anything like this…”
God, he wanted to dig up the marquess merely for the satisfaction of killing him for his neglect of this unique and fascinating woman.
“This is only the beginning.” He chuckled into her skin, and yes, it was just as silky as he’d dreamed.
His hold on reality was rapidly slipping away the longer he played with her nipples, her perfect, tempting, fantastic nipples—stroking, teasing, sucking, biting.
He couldn’t have enough.
At her soft cry, he quickly soothed the flesh with his tongue until she moaned and writhed beneath him, asking him to stop but urging him to continue, and he began his torture all over again.
“Let me touch you,” she managed to gasp while resting a hand on his chest. “I need a distraction else I’ll drown in what you’re doing to me.”
“Your touch will only send me over the edge sooner, and I wish to draw this out because I’m a selfish prick.”
“Or a rogue?” As she spoke, she curled one hand about his nape, guided him to a nipple while she caressed her free hand up and down his arm.
A moan escaped him, for her touch inflamed him.
“As if I have the capacity to be anything else.” His attempt at a chuckle fell far short, for it took most of his concentration not to spend.
Cornelius glided a hand slowly down her body, between her breasts, along her torso, over her abdomen to bury his fingers into her curls. “More?”
“Yes.” She sucked in a breath when he eased those digits along the flesh between her thighs. “But I—” A surprised cry was poorly muffled when he uncovered that tiny bud at her center that would hopefully make her world catch fire.
“It’s time you learned to fly since your husband did such a piss-poor job of it.” Unable to stop, he kissed her lips while he continued to worry that little button with varying degrees of friction.
“You are going to drive me to madness!” Her hips bucked off the sofa, which caused his engorged length to pulse with urgency. She dug her fingernails into his shoulder.
“That is the point. Did he not teach you anything?”
“Clearly not, and I… Oh!” A moan escaped her. Penelope pulled slightly away, breaking the kiss, but he continued with his torment, for he wanted her to experience everything. Yes, he’d already done wicked things to her, but this felt different.
“Fall into that first release for me.”
“But I can’t…” Then she gasped and her body went taut when he nipped a nipple and increased friction to her button.
It was the most glorious sight as she rode out those contractions with her eyelids fluttering and her lips parted in a silent scream. “Ah, Penelope, you were made for this, I think.” Heat trailed through his body as he settled more comfortably between her legs.
Dear God, the woman was gorgeous! The flush of passion spread over her chest. Her kiss-swollen lips were a dark rosy hue, which her nipples matched.
Would that he had another couple of hours to completely explore her form, but he rather feared that too much stimulation would cause him to explode prematurely.
“Major, is something amiss?” The concern in her whisper went straight to his stones. The way in which she regarded him with sleepy eyes, and a half grin pushed him close to the edge.
“No, in fact it is all too right.” And therein lay the trouble. He shouldn’t have done even this to her, but there was no turning back.
In the dim light, anticipation warred with apprehension in her eyes as she rested her hands on his shoulders.
“Finish me. Claim me, Cornelius, like you would have done all those years ago. Let me know how it feels to be needed by a man who has no issue in maintaining an erection long enough to make me fly.”
Oh, God.
In that moment, they were both raw and real and on the verge of vulnerability, but he didn’t care. She needed him to be something specific for her, and he wasn’t about to disappoint her, for perhaps he needed the same from her as well.
“Gladly.” A pox on Weymouth as well as her father for making her exist in such a marriage where there was no satisfaction on many levels. “Just let me remove my breeches.”