Dismayingly, he eased his manhood from her body, although he remained standing between her parted thighs. Madeline almost cried aloud in disappointment, yet Rayne wasn’t finished with her. He dipped a forefinger in the wine and rubbed it over her lips and down her throat. She drew another sharp breath at the cool, sweet feel of the liquid. Then rewetting his fingers, he shifted to her stomach, drawing swirling patterns on her skin before moving back up to her jutting, naked breasts.
“Rayne, please….”
“Hush, darling. Begging me won’t do any good.”
As he spoke he coated her tight nipples with wine, his slick fingers plied the aching buds, pulling and caressing the engorged tips.
Dangerous. Oh, this man is dangerous, Madeline thought dazedly, closing her eyes.
Then he suddenly left off, drawing back his caressing hands. Madeline’s eyes flew open in confusion.
“You need to offer your breasts to me so I can suck them.”
“Rayne …” she started to protest.
“Now, love, or I’ll stop at once.”
She couldn’t bear for him to stop. She wanted his mouth on her naked skin, her fever-hot breasts. She wanted his mouth … everywhere.
Biting her lower lip, Madeline lifted her hands brazenly to the wine-scented mounds of her breasts.
“Now play with those lovely nipples. Pretend your hands are mine.”
Her fingers plucked at the crests, just as Rayne had done.
“A wanton woman,” he said approvingly. “How provocative.”
She was indeed a wanton woman. She felt primitive, carnal, exquisitely female.
Yet Rayne didn’t suck her nipples as he’d promised. Instead his gaze raked down her body, his eyes hot, touching her everywhere. Then his head lowered slowly to her belly to lick at the wine he had traced on her skin.
He took his time, as if he intended to savor her at his leisure. His tongue teased her with maddening delicacy, playing her masterfully with taunting spirals and erotic touches designed to
devastate. Madeline shivered with pure wanton pleasure. Then finally, finally, he moved up to her breasts.
She gave a muted cry when his hot mouth closed over her budded nipple, sucking it sharply. For long moments he lavished attention there before attending the other breast with as much ruthless tenderness, making Madeline whimper and arch involuntarily against the exquisite pressure.
“Hungry?” he demanded in a taunting whisper. “I am, but not for food. It’s your pleasure I’m starving for.”
Placing one last kiss on each of her aching nipples, he raised his head. Using both hands then, he spread her legs even wider, positioning her silky body open for his pleasure, and smoothed his hands up her inner thighs.
At the feel of those sensuous fingers gliding upward, Madeline tried not to squirm. Yet her hips stirred and shifted, lust making her feel restless to the point of screaming. From the sensual glint in Rayne’s eyes, she could tell what was to come.
“Don’t move,” he ordered. “Your body is impatient, but you aren’t allowed to move.”
How could she remain still when he knew precisely what to do to make her wild?
Coating his fingers in wine once more, he painted the dusky triangle of curls between her thighs, then the lips of her sex, dewing the hardening, aching flesh with glossy moisture.
With fierce effort Madeline forced herself to lie still as she watched her own seduction, arousal searing through her, dark and thick, as his hand cupped the rise of her silky mound, molding her.
Then Rayne stopped once more. Dragging his brilliant gaze over her in a lazy caress, he smiled devilishly.
“Touch yourself for me, darling, between your thighs.”
Responding willingly, she let her legs fall open further and slid her fingers into the moisture between her folds.
“Are you ready for me?” he asked, his voice very low and intimate.