Baron of Bad (Lords of Scandal 5)

She gasped and then moaned, her body wracked with a shiver as her hands dug into his hair.

“Perfect,” he said as he pulled away for a moment and then leaned back in to kiss her again.

Tension was tightening inside her, the ache so keen, she thought she might die from pleasure. “Perhaps,” she gasped. “I am only perfect for you.”

He stopped then, his tongue stilling and this time she moaned again but not from pleasure, rather from frustration. “That is an interesting point. Someone else may not find your scent so pleasing or—”

“Ben.” She dug her fingers deep into his scalp even as she pulled at his hair. “Do I have to beg?”

He gave her a slow grin. “I think that sounds lovely.” Then the grin turned wicked. “But I like it equally well when you demand.”

Her heel dug into the small of his back. “Very well. I demand that you finish what you’ve started.”

“I changed my mind. Beg.”

In answer, she pushed harder, squeezing with her thighs. He laughed, his breath tickling her sensitive skin. “That’s my girl,” he said and then kissed her again.

Waves of pleasure rocked her body as he inserted a finger deep inside her channel and suddenly she was tipping over the edge falling into an abyss. She might have been frightened but he held her hips in his hands, solid despite the sensation spinning her out of control.

As she floated back to reality, he was gone but only for a moment. When he came back, his chest pressed to hers, his legs settling in the open juncture of her thighs, the hard press of his manhood parting her tender and swollen flesh. “Grace,” he ground out between his teeth.

In response, she wrapped her arms about his neck, looking up into his eyes. “I’m ready for you.”

* * *

Need pulsed through Bad, making thought near impossible. He’d wanted to wait. But in this moment, he couldn’t stand another moment without making her his.

Grace was meant to be here with him, skin to skin. “I love you,” he gritted out. “Grace, I love you so much. I want to grow old with you. Spend my life learning to love the way I didn’t know that I could.”

“I love you, too,” she replied and then she tilted her hips so the head of his cock slipped inside her warm, soft channel.

He’d begun to shake. Bad wasn’t certain when exactly that had happened but now he couldn’t control the response.

He inched deeper into her tight sheath, the control he was exercising near breaking him. He felt her maidenhead and he thrust against it, breaking it in one quick movement.

She cried out, pulling him closer and he stilled, his lips brushing her temple, then her nose. “Are you all right, love?”

“I…” she started, tightening her hold. “I am. It just hurt…” She paused again. “More than I expected.”

His body cried to move but he held still. “I’m sorry, sweetheart. It only hurts this one time.” He kissed her cheeks, her jaw. “The pain will go away soon.”

She nodded, pressing her face into the crook of his neck. “When the pain goes away, does it feel as good as your kisses?”

That made him relax. “I believe so.” He’d heard more than a few say it was even better but he’d allow her to draw her own conclusions.

She stretched out, relaxing underneath him. “Really? Better?” She lightly stroked his neck. “No wonder women allow themselves to be ruined.” Then she giggled. “I have allowed myself to be ruined.”

It was his turn to tense. “You’re marrying me now, Grace. There’s no backing out of it and—”

She tilted back her chin and took a kiss. “I tease.” Then another. “Besides, it’s fun to be bad. Especially when I know you’ll make an honest woman of me.”

He drew in a long breath and then rolled onto his back, rolling her with him so that he stayed inside her. “It is fun, but we will be married very shortly.”

Being on top, she moved a bit on his staff, making pleasure tighten his sac. “After we’re married, can we pretend not to be?”

“What?” He stopped moving, holding her hips. His old fears reared to the surface. “What do you hope to gain by pretending not to be married?”

She moved against him again, her hips pulling him deeper into her body. “You could come to my chamber pretending to be a servant or…” She looked up at the ceiling. “My solicitor.”