Chapter 10
Chapter Ten
Soft, pliant lips molded to his, like they were made for him. Hunt wasn’t an overly romantic man, but damn it, he believed they were. What other explanation would there be for her to taste so addicting to him?
Hunt stumbled over his discarded cravat, waistcoat, and shirt, his shaking fingers unlacing the laces of her traveling dress, as their never-ending kiss clouded his better judgment.
A small voice questioned if he was taking advantage of her vulnerability.
But before he could end the madness raging between them, his hellion pulled him closer.
Her soft hands gently massaged his neck, as she pressed her firm breasts to his bare chest. She was in his arms. He couldn’t stop kissing her for anything in the kingdom, not even if the king himself burst into the room and demanded it.
The faded blue traveling dress hung off her shapely arms. Kissing his lips one last time, she stepped back, her eyes still slightly red from earlier, but there was no hesitation in her dark brown gaze.
She stood in front of Hunt like the hellion she was and let the dress fall. Delia wore nothing but stays and a shift, her breasts spilling out from her undergarments.
“Come here, Delia,” he demanded, beckoning her with one finger.
Stepping out of the dress, she closed the distance between them. Hunt pulled her to him with one hand, his other opening the fastenings of her stays. He began undoing the laces, slowly, his eyes never leaving hers.
When he was done, he slid the stays down her bare arms, leaving her in nothing but a thin shift.
Her eyes roamed his bare chest, her shaking fingers reaching out to touch him.
“I know you don’t want to hear this, but the Belle was right,” she said, giving him a playful smile.
“About what?” His hand pulled at the delicate ribbon of her simple white chemise, revealing more of her voluptuous breasts.
The last thing Hunt wanted to do was talk about the Belle and that blasted Rake Review. The only thing he craved at that moment was Adelia St. George.
“You are magnificent.” Her fingers trailed down his chest, teasing the fine hairs of his abdomen.
He kissed her and scooped her up into his arms. She laughed against his lips as he carried her to the large four poster bed against the wall.
Hunt placed her on her feet, bending down to take the thin fabric of her shift in his hands.
He lifted it slowly up, revealing smooth brown skin that he desperately needed to kiss.
The thin fabric grazed against hard nipples before he gently pulled it over her head and flung it to land on the chaise lounge they had abandoned.
She stood in front of him wearing nothing but her drawers.
A finger trailed around one nipple, then the other. “I think you are the magnificent one,” he said, as he gazed down at her.
She was a work of art, with full breasts, round hips, and a defined waist. Delia wasn’t one of those petite women who didn’t enjoy a meal. She was rounded in all the right places, and he couldn’t take his eyes off her.
Delia pulled down her drawers, playfully letting them fall. She bit her bottom lip as she sat on the bed, a queen on her throne.
Bare and glorious.
Hunt closed the small gap between them, standing in front of her. His hand closed around the nape of her neck, massaging gently.
“Take me out.”
Deft hands undid the flaps of his breeches, releasing his cock.
Her sharp intake of breath nearly caused him to smile with pride, but he did not. He was well aware of his attributes.
He hissed when her hand gripped him, unable to close fully around his girth. Soft strokes moved up and down, her gaze locked on him.
“I’m not an innocent, Hunt,” she whispered the admission.
Somehow, he had known, and that did not take away from his opinion of her. Delia St. George was still the strongest, most captivating woman he’d ever met, and nothing she ever did in the past or the future would change his opinion of her.
“Good,” he said, leaning forward and pulling her head back. “Because there is nothing innocent about what I want to do with you.”
He kissed her, hard and rough, rougher than he had that entire night.
“What do you want to do with me?” she asked breathless, reaching for him again.
Hunt gave her a wicked smile. “Put me in your mouth.” He stood, waiting patiently for her.
Her eyes widened slightly, and for a moment, Hunt believed he had pushed her too far. He was aware that his bedroom behavior was vastly different than his public appearance.
Squeezing his member, Delia slowly leaned toward Hunt, her eyes, pools of deep brown, grounding him in place.
He couldn’t move or breathe, as she kissed the tip of his cock with her sweet lips.
“Open for me.” It was a gentle demand, as his fingers gripped her hair.
She opened her pretty mouth, and Hunt slid inside. “That’s it,” he rasped out, his voice strained.
It took everything in him to not set a grueling pace. She’d told him that she was experienced, but he could surmise that she’d never done such a thing in her life. Though he did not hold her other encounter against her, Hunt was filled with pride at being the only man she’d allowed such intimacies.
He moved gently, allowing her to get accustomed to the feel of him, moving steadily in and out. The grip on her head guided her, his head falling back, as pure bliss coursed through his entire body. If he died right then and there, Hunt would’ve been the happiest man in England.
From the moment he’d met her, all he could think about was her, and here she was, his at last. He’d never thought about marriage or love. His father had given him the worst example of both. But now, with his hellion, he dared hope for more.
“Delia,” he groaned as she found her own rhythm.
One of her hands was wrapped around his cock, as her mouth continued to work him.
Hunt’s legs began to shake, his climax crashing toward him faster than it ever had with any seasoned woman.
“That’s enough,” he rasped out, his control faltering.
She stopped, staring up at Hunt with that fire he loved. It was like he took her favorite treat away.
Pulling her up, he crashed his mouth to hers. His lips were hungry and demanding, as he tasted himself on her tongue.
Hunt placed her on the bed, his hands roaming every inch he could touch, memorizing every detail of her. The moans she made when he pinched at her dark nipples, the breathy mewl that swept through the room when he entered her with one finger—slow and steady.
Bloody hell, she was tight.
His turgid cock was hard and aching, but Hunt was determined to enjoy her. She wasn’t one of the doxies at Sinners, or a woman he would just enjoy and move on as if nothing happened.
No, Adelia St. George was the type of woman you spent forever with.
Hunt’s lips worshipped her, kissing a treacherous path from her jaw down the long, smooth column of her neck. He stopped to enjoy how her body arched into him, as his fingers worked in and out of her, the walls of her sex gripping him.
“Hunt! Please.” She begged so prettily he couldn’t stop the arrogant smile on his face.
Adding a second finger in her, he nipped at her jaw before taking her bottom lip with his teeth. She quivered, wetness flooding his fingers.
“What do you want, my hellion?” he asked before licking down her jaw, back to her neck, to the swell of one of her enticing breasts.
Teasing her nipple with his tongue, Hunt wrapped his lips around the dark bud and sucked while the speed of his fingers increased. When he bit down lightly, she cried out his name, and Hunt feared they would wake the entire inn.
Her body shivered beneath him, his hand soaked with her essence, but he wanted more.
Removing his hand, he slid down her body, his nose skimming on her now slippery skin. The curls of her sex greeted him, thick and glistening from her arousal.
“W-what are you doing?” she asked, rising upon her elbows.
The wonder and question in her eyes alerted Hunt to all he needed to know. Whoever her former lover, or lovers, were, they had not cared about her pleasure. None of it mattered. He would give her so much pleasure that she would forget about any man before him.
He gave her a crooked smile. “Feasting.”
Hunt dived in, tasting her essence for the first time. He let out a deep animalistic groan that he’d never heard come from him before. This hellion of a woman was undoing him piece by piece, and there was nothing he could do to stop it.
“Oh God, Hunt!” she cried out, one of her hands slapping down on his head, trying to pull at the small strands of his hair to no avail.
Hunt’s tongue plundered and discovered her depth, creating a path and a rhythm that was wholly his own.
Wetness seeped from her, and he greedily drank it down then wrapped his lips around her nub.
He sucked lightly, enjoying the tremble in her thighs, the cry of pleasure as she came for him, loud and wanton.
Damn it all to hell, Hunt wanted to hear that sound for the rest of his life.
“Please, Hunt, take me,” she begged, her fingers digging into his shoulders.
Swirling his tongue, he entered her, refusing to relent on the torture. He needed her cries of pleasure like he needed to breathe, like a body needed water. Perhaps he had only been born to please his hellion.
Her body shook again, then stilled, her back arching off the bed, full breasts on display.
Hunt gazed up at her from between thick thighs and, fuck, was she a sight to behold.
Taking a heavy breast in his hands, he massaged, thrusting his tongue inside of her like he wanted to do with his cock.
Her essence flowing out as she moaned and rotated her hips, chasing her release.
It dragged on and on, her body taut and writhing as he dragged himself up her body, kissing her sweat-soaked skin as he went.
He made quick work of his hanging breeches and boots, the urgency to be inside her nearly driving him mad. Hunt savored the taste of her on his tongue and wished he could feast on her nightly.
Lifting her off the bed, he pressed her limp body to his. She wrapped her legs and arms around him as he turned, sitting on the edge of the bed.
Delia peppered hungry, desperate kisses across his neck and beard until she finally reached his lips. Hunt kissed her long and deep, relishing the frantic desire of her kisses.
Positioning her over his hard cock, he shook at the wet heat of her sex. She moved on top of him, causing the head of his cock to penetrate her opening.
“Easy,” he warned, not wanting her to impale herself too quickly.
“Now, Hunt, please!” she demanded, her hips circling.
He stilled her with both hands on her wide hips, controlling her movements.
Hunt tapped her playfully on the rear. “Be good, hellion,” he said, before taking her lips between his.
Unhurriedly, he slid her down his cock, inch by inch. Their lips fused together, her breathy moans mingling with his sighs of pleasure. Once she was fully seated, he stilled her, afraid of completing prematurely like an inexperienced lad.
“I need to move,” she moaned against his lips.
He guided her at first, controlling her, feeling her tight walls grip him like they never wanted him to leave. And dear God, did he long to stay inside of her forever.
Being intimate with Delia erased every bad thing in his life. There was no earldom, no fortune, no cousin, and no blasted Rake Review. It was just him and her.
“Ride me,” he said, lying back on the bed, his hands remaining on her hips.
“How?” she asked, her wild hair falling around her shoulders, her head tilted slightly.
He guided her expertly, up and down, teaching her what he liked, his eyes tracking her every movement for any sign of pleasure or discomfort.
Soon, she moved without his assistance, her hips finding a rhythm that only she could hear. He touched every part of her, the sight of her naked and in the throes of pleasure undoing him completely. She leaned forward, her heavy breasts begging for his special attention.
“Hunt!” she cried out, as he sucked one nipple into his mouth, his hand caressing the other.
The beating of his heart was overwhelmingly loud in his own ears. The tingling at his spine, and his pleasure building to a point of no return all had Hunt fighting for control.
Her body vibrated and stilled again, her sex gripping the life out of his cock. Releasing her breasts, he grabbed the nape of her neck and pulled her to him, his free arm wrapping around her body, holding her as she was wracked with one orgasm after another.
She kissed him, wild, without restraint, and he couldn’t help but cling to her tighter. The beating of her heart pounded against his chest. Her hard nipples pressed against him. This beautiful, fierce woman was his, and he would hold on to her as long as humanly possible.
Flipping her over, Hunt took her hands and placed them over her head. He held them to the bed with one hand and lifted her leg with the other.
His movements were deliberate, deep, steady. He kissed her, his tongue sliding against hers, unhurriedly, like he had all the time in the world, because for her, he did.
His thrust increased, becoming frantic. He tried to will himself to stop and do the sensible thing and complete on the duvet, but he couldn’t leave her heavenly depths.
“Delia!” he cried against her lips, as her body shook again with another orgasm.
He stayed seated inside of her, the slow caress of their kisses calming his frantic nerves. Hunt rolled over, pulling her with him, refusing to stop touching her for even a second.
There were no sounds in the room but the quiet crackle of the hearth and their erratic breathing.
She kissed his chest, her hand teasing up and down it. “I-Is that what it’s supposed to be like?” she asked breathlessly.
He chuckled, kissing her forehead. The truth was it had never been like that for him. “It will be from this moment on.”
The words hung in the air, as they laid on the bed. If Hunt had any say in the matter, he’d never let Adelia St. George go.