To Pleasure a Lady (Courtship Wars 1)

And it was a surrender, Arabella realized dazedly, unable to understand why she had fought him for so long.

She was filled with dismay when his kiss suddenly ended, then startled when he unexpectedly transferred his attentions below her waist. Dipping his dark head, Marcus settled his mouth on her inner thigh and began moving upward, tracing the earlier path of his fingers, trailing searing kisses on her skin.

It shocked Arabella when he pushed her skirts above her hips, baring all her secrets, and shocked her more when she felt his warm breath dampen the golden curls at the juncture of her thighs. She trembled violently as she realized his intention. He meant to kiss her there!

At the tender flick of his tongue over her sensitive flesh, she jerked, lifting her hips halfway off the blanket.

“Steady,” he whispered, his hands moving to her thighs to hold her down.

His tongue stroked her, probing her folds. Then he drew the swollen bud into his mouth as his middle finger slipped inside her.

The sensation was incredible-his hard finger sheathed in her flesh, his scalding mouth working its magic on her sex.

Her breath coming in hoarse whimpers, Arabella shut her eyes, her head shifting desperately back and forth on the blanket. She was unbearably hot, filled with tension and excitement and wild anticipation.

Her hands clenching spasmodically, she gripped Marcus’s shoulders, clinging blindly, seeking more of this fevered pleasure that had caught her up in a maelstrom of desire and frustration. She needed something she couldn’t even begin to imagine, something that was clawing at her, tearing her apart.

Yet Marcus wouldn’t give her surcease. When she uttered a low, keening moan, the growl in the back of his throat signaled his approval. He continued laving her, caressing her, arousing and teasing and tormenting until she thought she might die from the wild pleasure he had kindled in her.

Then suddenly her senses exploded. Arabella cried out as reality splintered into a thousand sensual fragments of pleasure and her entire world dissolved in pulsing heat.

She was only dimly aware of the passage of time. Even when her pounding heart slowed, she lay there limp and unmoving. Her whole body felt gloriously weak and blissful from the ecstasy Marcus had given her.

When finally she regained her senses, it was to find him stretched out beside her, watching her tenderly.

“See now what you have been missing?”

Yes, she saw very clearly. His lovemaking had stunned her. She’d been overwhelmed by a storm of emotion and sensation.

This was what made sensible women turn insensible, Arabella realized. Yet her insensibility had a great deal to do with Marcus himself. He was undoubtedly a magnificent lover.

“It is no wonder,” she murmured hoarsely, “that females fall all over themselves trying to attract your attention.”

“I am gratified you noticed.”

H

e smiled lazily down at her, a dark glint in his blue eyes, as solicitously, he drew down her skirts to cover her bare limbs.

Arabella sat up shakily. Something was missing, though. According to her friend Fanny, there was much more to lovemaking than what Marcus had just shown her. She eyed him in puzzlement until it struck her: He had seen to her pleasure but not his own.

Her gaze slid downward toward his hips, where she could see his buff breeches straining across the thick bulge at his groin. “That is all you mean to do?”

His eyebrow rose to his hairline. “You weren’t satisfied?”

“No…I mean, yes, of course I was. It’s just that…I understand that it is painful for a man to be aroused without…you know.”

He laughed softly. “It is painful, love-almost excruciating. But I will endure it. You are not yet ready for your next lesson. Now the anticipation will make it all the more pleasurable when I finally make love to you completely.”

The prospect of Marcus making love to her completely made Arabella’s pulse leap with wild excitement, but she didn’t mean for it to happen. Rather than argue, though, she said somewhat shyly, “Would you like me to…to stroke you to ease your pain?”

The amused tenderness in his expression grew. “You are all kindness, to be so concerned with my comfort.”

“It seems only fair,” Arabella said, another blush rising to inflame her cheeks.

“In point of fact, I can deal with the ache myself.”

When he reached down to unfasten the front of his breeches, she automatically lowered her gaze again. Her eyes widened as comprehension dawned: Marcus meant her to view his naked loins.