The feel of his penis was . . . exquisite. Thick and rigid and hot. She ran her hand up and down, testing the textures of silk and stiffness.
Grace managed to emerge from her pleasured haze enough to breathe, “Show me. Show me how you like to be touched.”
He wrapped his hand around hers in a grip that was far tighter than she would have used if left to her own devices. It was almost punishing, but the cords in his neck stood out as he groaned with pleasure. The round head of his cock stood proud of the foreskin, and a droplet of slickness emerged to coat her fingers.
“Like this,” he gritted, guiding her along his shaft. “Firm at the head, and all the way down. Yes. Yes.” He released his grip on her hand and she took over, stroking him.
She’d never felt so powerful. Even as he continued to caress her, sending glittering sparks throughout her body, she savored the measure of her sovereignty. He lavished her with sensation as she bestowed pleasure to him.
“Enough,” he rasped and laid a restraining palm over her hand.
“You don’t like it?”
“Like it too much. But there’s something I want.” He nuzzled along her neck before lightly biting her throat. “I want to taste you. Will you let me?” His gaze flicked downward—he didn’t mean tasting her mouth.
She’d read about it, of course. The Lady of Dubious Quality had a remarkable way of describing what it was like when someone licked a woman’s quim, and the thought of it had inspired Grace many times as she’d touched herself. To experience it for herself . . .
“Please,” she said in a husky whisper.
“I want to hear you say it.”
She shivered from his rough demand. This delightful, commanding Sebastian stoked her arousal higher. “I want you to taste me. Between my legs.”
God, if she could only capture the sound he made and listen to it every day for the rest of her life. It was the primal sound of a highly aroused man. Not any man. Sebastian.
He pressed scorching kisses along her throat, then lower, just above the neckline of her gown. She released her hold on his cock as he continued to move down her body. And then he knelt between her legs, gently easing up her skirts before tugging off her drawers. She watched the focused desire on his face as he beheld her bared quim, and his hunger made her own need blaze.
Before she could plead with him to please, please put his mouth on her, he lowered down and gave her folds one long, slow lick. She cried out. And when he sucked on her sensitive flesh, she cried out again.
He consumed her. There was no other way of describing it. He feasted on her with a single-mindedness that robbed her of the ability to do anything but lie back and let herself be pleasured. Nothing had ever felt so wondrous—or so she believed until he slid his finger into her passage and she had to clamp her hand over her mouth to stifle her scream of ecstasy.
She’d wanted him, wanted this, forever. And to have him now worshipping her body—as though she was everything to him—filled her with a wild and uncontrolled joy.
His tongue lapped at her and circled her clitoris, while he stroked in and out of her with his finger. Deep within her, he found and caressed a swollen spot.
“Sebastian. Yes. Oh, God. I—”
She broke into thousands, millions of fragments. It wracked her sharply. But he didn’t stop, and no sooner had she collected herself than another orgasm shattered her. And another. Was it possible to die from pleasure? If so, she didn’t care, so long as he kept making her feel this way.
She’d experienced release before at her own hands. Yet it was as if she’d never known what it was to feel ecstasy because what he gave her was so much better, both ruthless and giving. It was as though he would do anything to give her pleasure.
Eons or seconds later, he lay beside her, his expression gratified as well as hungry.
“I’d read about that,” she said, her words lightly slurred. “But it’s so much better than I could have imagined.”
She tasted herself on his lips when he kissed her.
“I’d like to fuck you now.” A stain of color spread across his face, as though he shocked himself with his own profane language. His voice was taut, and even though she’d just had a number of orgasms, desire slammed back into her to hear him speak such earthy words. “I’ll be careful. I’ll keep you safe.”