"It matters to me."
He started to get up. "That's sweet of you. Now, listen, I'll just bring you up some - "
"Wait." Her eyes glowed in the dimness. "Oh... God, Butch... Kiss me."
He stilled. Then sank back down to his knees. "I'll take it easy. I promise."
Leaning into her, he put his mouth on hers and brushed her lips. Good Lord, she was soft. Warm. Shit... he wanted in. But he wasn't going to push.
Except then she grabbed on to his shoulders and said, "More."
Praying for control, he stroked her mouth once again, then tried to ease back. She followed, keeping them linked... and before he could stop himself, he ran his tongue across her lower lip. With an erotic sigh, she opened herself and he had to slide inside, couldn't possibly turn down the opportunity to penetrate her.
As she tried to get even closer to him, he moved his torso up on the bed, pressing his chest into her. Which was not such a hot idea. The way her br**sts absorbed his weight set off a five-alarm fire in his body, reminding him just how desperate a man could be when he had his woman horizontal.
"Baby, I should stop." Because in another minute he was going to have her under him with that dress yanked up around her hips.
"No." She slipped her hands under his jacket and slid it off of him. "Not yet."
"Marissa, I'm getting raw here. Fast. And you don't feel well - "
"Kiss me." She dug her nails into his shoulders, the sting cutting through his fine shirt in a series of delicious little flares.
He growled and took her mouth a hell of lot less gently.
Again, bad idea. The harder he kissed her, the harder she kissed back until their tongues were dueling and every muscle in him was twitching to mount her.
"I have to touch you," he groaned, shifting his whole body up on the bed and swinging his leg over hers. He palmed her hip and squeezed, then moved his hand up onto her rib cage just below the swell of her breast.
Shit. He was so on the ledge right now.
"Do it," she said into his mouth. "Touch me."
As her back arched, he took what she offered, capturing her breast, stroking it through the silk bodice of the gown. With a gasp, she put her hand over his, holding him tighter to her.
"Butch..."
"Oh, shit, let me see you, baby. Can I see you?" Before she could respond, he captured her mouth, but the way she met his tongue gave him his answer. He sat her up and started in on the buttons down the back of her gown. His hands were clumsy, but by some miracle the satin parted.
Except there were so many other layers to get through. Goddamn it, her skin... he had to get to her skin.
Impatient, aroused, fixated, he stripped the front of the gown off her, then pushed the straps of her slip down so that the pale silk pooled at her waist. The white corset that was revealed was an erotic surprise and he ran his hands all over it, feeling the structure of its bones and the warmth of her body underneath. But then he couldn't stand it any longer and all but tore the thing from her.
As her br**sts were freed, her head fell back, the long, elegant lines of her neck and shoulders stretching out for him. Eyes on her face, Butch bent down to her and took one of her ni**les with his mouth, suckling. Sweet heaven, he was going to come, she was so good. He was panting like a dog, already deranged from the sex, and they were nowhere near naked.
But she was right there with him, straining, hot, needy, her legs scissoring under her skirts. Man, this whole situation was spiraling out of control, a combustion engine turning over faster and faster with every second. And he was powerless to stop.
"Can I take this off you?" Shit, his voice was totally gone. "This gown... the whole thing?"
"Yes..." The word was a groan, a frantic groan.
Unfortunately, the dress was a project and damn it, he didn't have the patience to keep working all those buttons in the back of it. He ended up bunching the floor-length skirt at her hips and drawing a pair of whisper-thin white panties down her long, smooth legs. Then he ran his hands up the in-sides of her thighs, parting them.
As she tensed up, he stopped. "If you want me to back off, I will. In a heartbeat. But I just want to touch you again. And maybe... look at you." When she frowned, he started to pull down the dress. "It's okay - "
"I'm not saying no. It's just... oh, God... what if I'm unattractive there?"
Jesus, he could not comprehend why she'd ever worry about that. "Not possible. I already know you how perfect you are. I've felt you, remember?"
She took a deep breath.
"Marissa, I loved the feel of you. I really did. And I have a beautiful picture of you in my mind. I just want to know the reality."
After a moment, she nodded. "All right... go ahead."
Keeping their gazes locked, he swept his hand between her thighs and then... oh, yeah, that soft, secret place of hers. So slick and hot he swayed and dropped his mouth to her ear.
"You're so beautiful here." Her hips surged as he stroked her, his fingers light and slippery from her honey. "Mmm, yeah... I want to be inside of you. I want to put my" - the word c**k was definitely too coarse, but that's what he was thinking - "myself in you, baby. Right here. I want to be surrounded by all this, held in you tight. So you believe me when I say you're beautiful? Marissa? Tell me what I want to hear."
"Yes..." As he rubbed a little deeper, she shivered. "God... yes."
"You want me to come inside of you someday?"
"Yes..."
"You want me to fill you up?"
"Yes..."
"Good, because that's what I want." He nipped at her ear-lobe. "I want to lose it deep in you and have you fist me as you come, too. Mmm... rub yourself against my hand, let me feel you move for me. Oh, shit... that's nice. That's... work your core for me... oh, yeah .. ."
Shit, he had to stop talking. Because if she took direction any better he was going to explode.
Oh, screw it. "Marissa, spread your legs farther apart for me. Spread them wide. And don't stop what you're doing."
As she complied, he slowly, discreetly, shifted back and looked down her body. On the other side of yards of twisted, teal blue satin, her creamy thighs were split open, his hand disappearing between them, her hips rolling in a rhythm that made his c**k pop in his pants.
Latching on to the closest breast, he gently smoothed one of her legs even wider. Then he moved all that skirting to the side, lifted his head and removed his hand. Down the flat plane of her stomach, past the dimple of her belly button, over the perfectly pale skin of her pelvic cradle, he saw the graceful little slit of her sex.
His whole body trembled. "So perfect," he whispered. "So... exquisite."
Enthralled, he moved down the bed and filled himself with the sight of her. Pink, glistening, delicate. And he was catching a contact high from her scent, his brain shorting out in a flickering series of sparks. "Oh... Jesus..."
"What's wrong?" Her knees snapped together.
"Not a thing." He pressed his lips to the top of her thigh and stroked her legs, trying to part them gently. "Never seen anything so beautiful."
Hell, beautiful didn't even cut it and he licked his mouth, his tongue desperate for so much more of that action. In an absent voice, he said, "God, baby, I want to go down on you so badly right now."
"Go down?"
He flushed at her confusion. "I... ah, I want to kiss you."
She smiled and sat up, taking his face between her hands. But when she tried to draw him to her, he shook his head.
"Not on your mouth this time." As she frowned, he eased his hand back between her thighs. "Here."
Her eyes flared so wide he wanted to curse. Way to make her feel relaxed, O'Neal.
"Why..." She cleared her throat. "Why would you want to do that?"
Good Lord, hadn't she ever heard of... well, of course not. Aristocrats probably had very polite, very missionary sex, and if they even knew about the oral stuff, they certainly would never tell their daughters about it. No wonder she was shocked.
"Why, Butch?"
"Ah... because if I do it right, you'll really enjoy it. And... yeah, so will I."
He glanced down her body. Oh, God, would he enjoy it. Going down on a woman had never been something he'd had to do before. With her? He needed it. He craved it. When he thought about making love to her with his mouth, every square inch of him got hard.