Who Wants a Brawling Baron (Romancing the Rake 6)

He kissed the back of her neck and then reached into her hair, pulling out several pins until the locks tumbled down her back. “I won’t lie to you about my time between my first marriage and now, but I can tell you, there has only been you. Since the first moment we danced, I—”

She looked over her shoulder then and he captured her lips with his own. “I don’t want to make idle threats but I expect you to keep that promise, my lord.”

He chuckled, his hands sliding down her waist and over her hips. “Are you wearing pantaloons?”

She wrinkled her nose. “It’s been so hot.”

He chuckled even as he started sliding her chemise up her body. “I’m so glad.” He skimmed his hands up her calves and over the inside of her thighs. Then he fanned his hands out up over her hips, pulling the chemise up her body and over her head.

She stood in nothing but her stockings and slippers. He guided her hands up higher onto the bedpost then ran them down her arms, tracing every curve of her body until she nearly hummed with desire. His touch was light, the calluses on his palms creating a friction that made her shiver.

And when he reached around her body, cupping her breasts, she moaned and let go of the post, wanting to wrap her arms about him. “Not yet,” he whispered in her ear. “Hold on, love.” As he tweaked her nipples, he began kissing down her back, nuzzling the curve at the small of her back before trailing a kiss over one cheek.

Then he nudged her legs apart, pushing her forward. “I’m going to kiss you again.”

When his tongue slid along her seam she nearly exploded with pleasure, even as one of his hands brushed through her curls, finding her nub of pleasure and applying pressure in slow circles.

His tongue continued to slide along her seam as pleasure built inside her, and she dug her hands into the wood, crying out as he only increased the tempo.

Her legs shook and whimpering cries bubbled from her lips but he didn’t slow the pace and after a few more passes, her insides shattered and she came undone.

Charlie slumped forward, her body pushing into the post for strength. She closed her eyes, wondering how she?

?d never known her body could do that. “Raithe?”

He slid a hand down her back then held her hips as he helped her as she crawled onto the bed. “I’ll be right there, love.”

Turning over on her back, she watched as he stripped off his shirt, his boots already pushed to the side. When his hands came to the falls of his breeches, she sat up a little. Twice now he’d used his mouth to break her apart. Was it the same for him? Would he feel as good if she touched him like that?

“Raithe.” She moved up to sitting, and then slid off the bed, her knees landing on the floor. She touched his knee, the butter softness of his breeches sliding under her fingers. “I asked you once about other forms of pleasure.”

She felt his muscles twitch under the tips of her fingers. “You did.”

“Does it work the same for men and women? Can I…” She licked her lips, trying to find the words. He groaned softly, hooking the waist of his breeches with his thumbs and rising to remove the garment.

His staff rose out from his body in front of her face, long, and thick, and straining against its own skin. She lifted her hand, wrapping her fingers about its girth, just to feel and explore the flesh. His head tipped back and he moaned louder. He liked that, did he?

She moved her hand along the velvet skin, exploring the tip, the rod, the base. His hand covered hers, and he guided her fingers up and down the shaft.

Licking her lips again, Charlie remembered the feel of his tongue, hot, wet, just slightly rough. Would he enjoy the touch as much as she did?

She reached out her tongue and flicked the tip. He jolted, his hands sliding into her hair. She did the same again and then planted a kiss directly on the head. He was so hard, she slid her lips along the engorged flesh.

“Charlie,” his voice held a raspy note of desperation as his hands held her still. “Tonight, I want to make you mine.”

“I already am,” she replied as she looked up at him. “Don’t you know that yet?”

Raithe stared down at the woman he loved, the woman who was going to be his wife. Yes. He knew.

But he also had a powerful need to claim her as his own. Take what would only ever be his. Her maidenhead.

He lifted her then, finally pulling her body against his. As their skin came together, they both groaned, her arms threading around his neck.

He lay them both down, her legs twining about his, and his manhood pressed into the soft, slick folds of her seam then sliding deeper into her channel.

“Charlie, I know you’re mine, love. You’ll be mine forever. I swear to you that I’ll care for you to the best of my abilities—”

“I know you will,” she answered without hesitation.