Chapter 24 #2
“If I am coming undone, then you are coming undone with me,” he rasped, his deep voice raw with aching need.
He pulled her back again by her hair, making her eyes meet his, and she felt her body pulse with an animalistic need as she saw the utter lust raging in his eyes.
She drew in a shaky breath as her hands came up to his chest, and she boldly dragged her nails down the muscled ridges of his torso as they locked eyes.
Satisfaction exploded within her as she watched his eyes turn completely back, and as he slammed his mouth back into hers, she gave herself completely over to him.
Desperate moans erupted from their throats as they tore at the rest of one another’s clothes, shedding them with abandon and no thought of where they went until they were both naked and pressed back into one another.
Deborah unleashed a low, long moan as Cedric’s hands and mouth lavished attention on her aching body all at once.
She arched her back as she felt his mouth on her breasts, parted her legs as his hand found her wet center, and thrust in two fingers.
Her soft, trailing nails dug deeper into his back and neck, no longer worried if she could grip him too hard.
She scratched him, stroked him wherever her hands could find purchase, and was rewarded with feral growls of pleasure.
Her first orgasm came in a rush of ecstasy, causing white stars to explode behind her eyes as her wetness gushed over his hand.
Letting her need completely take over her, she trailed her hand down her abdomen to let herself feel the soaking proof of her pleasure with her own fingers, then brought them to his straining manhood.
Cedric murmured a curse as he bucked his hips into her hand, looking like a man lost to his desires as he unashamedly used her stroking, wet hand to bring him pleasure.
“Take me,” Deborah breathed, pumping him faster in her fist.
Cedric let out a deeply masculine, tortured sound as he drew her hand away from his cock so he could bring his head between her legs.
“Not yet,” he rasped, splaying his large hands over her flat stomach. Then he slid his tongue along her sex, making tiny explosions of pleasure go off in her bloodstream.
“Why?” She whimpered, already feeling her second orgasm swiftly approaching thanks to his skilled tongue.
Cedric pulled back and looked up at her, and Deborah nearly lost herself right then and there as she met his dark eyes and the proof of her pleasure glistening on his mouth and chin.
“Because when I take you, Deborah, I am going to bury inside you so deep and for so long, I will surely give you a child. When I finally sink inside the heaven between your legs, not even the Devil himself could pull me out of you.”
Deborah’s jaw dropped at his wicked words as another wave of heat swept through her body.
Could he? Would he? A child?
Deborah’s thoughts ceased as swiftly as they had arisen when Cedric dropped his head between her thighs and continued tasting her.
She moaned, screamed, she fisted her hands into his hair as if it was the only way to hold on to her sanity- and then she shattered again; her orgasm rippling through her with such power that it made her see spots.
Hours later, Deborah slowly rose out of her pleasure-induced coma.
Warmth surrounded her, and it took her a moment to realize that she was nestled tightly against Cedric’s bare chest; his muscular arms caging her there.
She smiled, her lips sliding against one of Cedric’s pectoral muscles, and in response, he murmured something in his sleep as his arms tightened around her.
For a moment, she closed her eyes again and snuggled back into him, clinging to the bliss they had shared.
She had lost count of her orgasms after the third one, and she knew for certain that she had made Cedric climax twice.
It was a fact that filled her with a wicked glee- that she could please him so.
Deborah’s smile faded as she realized what such a thought meant, and she raised her head to look at the man who had opened her world to so many things. The planes of his handsome face were smooth as he drew in deep breaths as he slept, making her fingers itch to reach up and trace such lines.
She was falling in love with him, she realized.
She had told herself many times that it was foolish to do so.
After all, he was a rake. Yet their night in the carriage had started to change her mind.
He had provided her with a comfort that was both emotional and physical, and she had been living in a rare state of bliss ever since, despite her failed plan with the auction.
What was more shocking to think about, though, was that she was wondering if he was falling in love with her as well. The way he stayed at her side most of the time. The way he looked at her. The way wanted to know what she wanted for her life after her revenge.
It was wrong. All wrong. None of this was supposed to have happened. She was supposed to be looking out for Adeline, and he was supposed to be helping her take down Sylvester. Yet somehow, despite the clear roles in their agreement, they had both become distracted by one another.
You keep letting yourself escape from your purpose. You keep letting him distract you from what you are supposed to do. How can you be so happy when your sister is so clearly miserable?
The voice rose from somewhere deep in her mind, sending shards of pain and guilt through her heart. Deborah tried to draw in a calming breath, but the embrace she had once found comforting and delicious only moments ago was suddenly suffocating. She drew her hands up to Cedric’s chest and pushed.
Panic threatened to overtake her when Cedric’s body did not budge, but instead, wrapped tighter around her. She let out a soft cry, torn apart by her thoughts, and wiggled down, trying desperately to escape his warmth and protection.
I do not deserve it. I cannot have it. I need to make things right for Hester.
The words started soft, but by the time Deborah freed herself from Cedric’s embrace, they were screaming in her head. She had to stay away from him. Had to stop getting distracted. Her plans had all failed thus far, but that did not mean she was allowed to give up.
The darkness that had settled in the room, Deborah took a long look at the man who was her husband as she hugged her nightgown to herself. Her body begged to go back to him; she pleaded for his embrace, she already missed.
Instead, she forced herself to take a step back.
Then another. Then another, until finally she turned away from him and left through their adjoining door.
After she shut it quietly, she drew her nightgown back on and went to her own bed.
The sheets felt cold and empty as she slipped between them, and as she burrowed her head into the pillow, she let her tears fall for all she was about to give up.