Sutton's Spinster (The Sinful Suttons 1)

Octavia took him in hand as he had done to himself when he had spent. He was firm and warm, the skin smoother than she had imagined. His hips swiveled into her palm and he made a low sound of pleasure.

“Harder,” he said.

She did not know precisely what he meant, but she tightened her fingers on his length. In response, he swelled, growing longer and larger. An answering ache echoed at the apex of her thighs.

“Damn it, minx, if you keep touching me like that, I’ll never be inside you.”

His low growl did nothing to deter her, but Jasper did not appear to mind.

He tossed the cloth away, and then his fingers dipped into her folds. She parted her legs for him as if it were the most natural thing because somehow, when she was with Jasper, it was. There was no shame. Only sheer, radiant pleasure

. He rubbed over the bundle of nerves hidden in her folds, the one she had only dared to touch in the darkness of the night.

She was so sensitive there from the wonders he had worked with his lips and tongue and teeth that a sound escaped her, her own hips tipping to seek more. He kissed her again, sinking a hand into her hair. Belatedly, she realized some of it was still pinned into place while other pieces had come loose of the morning’s careful coiffure.

But she was beyond caring, especially when he gently disengaged from her touch and insinuated his big body between her legs, pressing the tip of him to her folds and stroking up and down.

“You’re still so wet,” he said into their kiss.

And this, too, was praise. She had no doubt.

When he used the head of his cock to play with her bud, she whimpered with need. Her hands were on his shoulders now, clutching, nails digging into the satiny skin of his back. Trying to pull him nearer.

She wanted everything he had to give.

He raised his head as he settled himself lower. “Are you ready for me, minx?”

“Yes.” Always. Forever. In that moment, it seemed as if she had been ready for him her entire life.

The invasion was new but not unexpected as he pushed inside her. There was a slight sting as her body grew accustomed to the foreign sensation. And then he thrust forward, and she was stretched and filled. He remained still, his face a study in concentration, bracing himself over her.

The thickness of him within her was somehow…right. There was no other word that would suffice. It was as if her body was meant for his and his for hers. They had come together so perfectly. But there was more than this, and she knew it. Her inner muscles clenched around him, and he lowered his head to the place where her shoulder and neck met, groaning as he nipped the sensitive flesh there.

“You feel so damn good,” he whispered against her skin. “So tight, so hot. Fuck.”

The rawness in his voice heightened her own desire. He felt good too. Better than good. He began to move, and the sensations changed. Slowly, he swiveled his hips, withdrawing almost completely before sinking inside her again. Each thrust brought new fire. The place where they joined was the center of her world.

She never wanted him to stop.

There was a word for what was happening, glittering and bright and hovering on the edge of her mind, just out of reach. He kissed her ear, her jaw, found her lips once more. She kissed him harder, her body moving in the rhythm he set, seeking.

His fingers slipped between them, and then his thumb found her most sensitive place, strumming over her with knowing pressure. It was too much. It was not enough.

It was…

Oh sweet heavens, it was…

Exquisite! That was the word she wanted for the feelings coursing through her. Such exquisite bliss. Impossible to believe she had lived her entire life without knowing him.

The sensations were rising, swelling, radiating from the heart of her. He increased his pace, pumping faster, harder, and she hurtled headlong into the abyss of pleasure, her body tightening on his, a cry pouring from her lips.

She held him tightly to her as he continued plunging in and out until at last he withdrew and reared up. Once more, he gripped his thick, slick length. The ripples of passion were still spiraling out from her core, amplified as she watched him. With a hoarse cry of his own, he lost himself as well, another thick spurt of his seed landing on her belly this time, instead of her breasts.

Their marriage was consummated at last.

But still, he had not spent inside her. It was a curious omission, one she vowed to ask him about later. For now, it was enough that he remained with her, a strong, strangely comforting presence at her side.

Even so, she did not dare trust him entirely just yet.