Sutton's Scoundrel (The Sinful Suttons 5)

He groaned, hips blindly chasing those wicked fingers as he took her lips with his once more. She opened, her tongue dancing with his, and this time, he recognized the tart, sugary sweetness of her as lemonade. He sucked on her tongue and then withdrew to kiss the corner of her lips, dragging his mouth along her jaw until he found her ear.

“More,” he whispered, tonguing the delicate whorl, nibbling on the arch until she shivered. “Tell me more, Countess.”

She traced the ridge of his cock boldly, then hooked her leg around his hips, drawing him more firmly against her. “I ache for you, Wolf. You’ve all I’ve been able to think about.”

“Only me?” he nipped her neck lightly, then raised his head, taking in how lovely she looked, her hair carefully arranged, a parure of pink gemstones glistening from her throat and ears and even from somewhere in the depths of her luxurious chestnut curls. The gems were in a setting of gold, fashioned to look as if they were flowers.

He’d give his last halfpenny to see her nude, wearing nothing but her jewels.

“Only you,” she confirmed.

He skimmed his hand above her garters, along the bare, velvety flesh of her inner thigh. “Are you ready?”

“Touch me.”

Her invitation was bold, issued as she watched him with her Siren’s allure from beneath lowered lashes. Holding her gaze, he trailed his touch higher, until her wet heat kissed his seeking fingertips. And then, because he couldn’t not, he stepped back to admire her, breasts thrust high above her bodice, looking all flushed and pretty, his fingers stroking over her as her lips fell open.

“Christ,” he hissed, for she was wet and hot and so damned tempting. “You are, aren’t you, love?”

She undid the fall of his trousers in response and his cock sprang free, demanding and unapologetically crude. Portia did not appear to mind, for she took him in hand, her fingers closing in a tight hold that had more breath seeping from his lungs, until he was dizzied. Overcome by the heady mix of lust and longing. A drop of mettle had already seeped from the tip of him, so desperate was his want, and she slicked it over him with her thumb, making him groan.

But instead of driving into her as his every heightened instinct commanded, he parted her folds, finding the plump heat of her pearl. Recalling what had garnered the most response from her, he applied pressure, swirling over the little bud until she was panting, her breaths leaving her in ragged gasps. Watching her come apart for him made the wait worthwhile.

He moved faster, gaining confidence, watching her gasp and writhe as he pleasured her, feeling her hips pumping, chasing his touch. And just when he sensed she was about to reach her pinnacle, he traced her hot folds lower, finding her entrance. He slid his forefinger into her cunny. The grip of her inner walls was tantalizing. He knew how incendiary that tight sheath felt on his cock, and he could not wait to feel it again. But he wanted to make her spend first, before he entered her. Wanted her desperate.

“Wolf,” she moaned his name as she surrendered to the pleasure he gave her.

Unrelenting, he worked her clitoris with his thumb while he pumped a finger inside her. But it was not enough, because he was being denied those plump, wonderful breasts of hers, tucked away inside her bodice. He trapped her hems in place with his hip, pinning them to the desk, and with his hand now free to roam, he reached for her bodice, tugging it down until her breasts spilled over the top, full and ripe.

As he worked his finger in and out of her, he bent, taking her nipple in his mouth and sucking. She came on a keening cry, her cunny tightening around his finger in delicious spasms as he continued fucking her. Ravenous, he moved to her other breast, licking and sucking and nipping until the last ripple of pleasure had been drawn from her.

Only then did he shift nearer, so the head of his cock brushed over her wet folds. She gasped, her eyes, which had drifted closed during the height of her orgasm, fluttering open, her green gaze burning into his.

“Put me inside you,” he told her, for her fingers were still wrapped firmly around his cock, and he wanted her to take control of him and her pleasure both.

She guided him to her pulsing cunny. Grasping him firmly, she dipped his cock inside. Molten heat engulfed him, and it was agony, sweet, searing agony, to hold still and allow her to have her way with him. But it was also excruciatingly delicious. Here she was, his brave and bold countess, seizing what she wanted.

And what she wanted was him.

Pride swelled, challenging the effervescent lust boiling to almost painful fury within. She felt so good around him. But he remained where he was, chest falling in uneven breaths, waiting until she drew him forward.

“Deeper,” she said breathlessly. “I need you all the way inside me, Wolf.”

At her request, what could he do but obey? Wolf’s hips were moving before his mind could sufficiently process her words. One thrust, and he was lodged deep, and she was completely surrounding him with her heat, constricting on him. It was—dare he think it—better than the first time. Because she was commanding him, and he was hers to do with as she wished.

“You feel so damned good,” he ground out, relishing the sensation of her wrapped around him, bathing his cock in her wetness.

“Yes,” she said softly, clutching tightly at his shoulders as she urged him on.

From there, his body once more told him what to do. He began moving, tentatively at first, sliding almost completely from her only to sink deep again. The pleasure was exquisite, and he was as tightly wound as the coil of a pocket watch spring. But he wanted to prolong their coupling. To make it last for as long as possible.

Except, this was all still new to him. Not just making love to a woman, but the way that woman made him feel. And not merely the way she made his cock feel, either. There was far more to what they shared than physicality. It was the way she made his… Christ, the way she made his heart feel, too.

But he did not want to think about that now.

No, he wanted to devote himself to giving her pleasure. To making her come. He’d heard coves brag about their prowess. How quickly they could have a woman shattering in their arms. But he had never known how powerful he would feel, knowing he had given her the same bliss that coursed through him when he was inside her.

He moved faster, their bodies joined and yet sliding sinuously together. And then he moved into her harder, realizing it felt good to the both of them, taking cues from her breathy sighs and the way she moved with him. He lost himself, sinking into her again and again.

She was clinging to him, cheeks flushed, her coiffure coming undone, those gems glinting in the candlelight from her throat and ears. She looked like a bloody queen, and she felt like one too, her cunny clenching on his cock, all velvet and silk. And he was going to lose control and spend inside her if he didn’t take care.

But first, he needed to pay attention to her hungry nipples. They were thrust toward him in an erotic offering he could not deny. Wolf dipped his head and took a stiff peak into his mouth. She cried out as he took a long, hearty suckle, her nails digging into his shoulders and raking down his chest in a score he felt through the layers of his clothes. It occurred to him what a travesty it was, not having her fully naked and not being nude himself, but almost entirely clothed. Oh to have the leisure to enjoy her as she deserved, worshiping every bit of creamy skin he could set his hands, lips, and tongue upon.

He would settle for this, for whatever he could get from her, even if stolen moments, the both of them still dressed, was all she was willing to offer. She had come to him, and she was here, and he was inside her, damn it, and nothing had ever felt so perfect and right, and neither had he.

Her orgasm took him by surprise. Her cunny clenched on him with a sudden strength that he had not expected. Tremors of pleasure shuddered through her, making her tighten and throb around his cock. He moved to her other breast, sucking the hard bud, catching it between his teeth and tugging. All sense of control fled. His restraint was gone.

His own rush of pleasure, when it hit him, was also without warning. The pressure in his ballocks burst, and then he had a moment to think, to remind himself he could not afford to get this widow with child. He had not waited all these damned years, living like a monk, to put a bastard in the belly of a countess who did not dare meet him by the light of day. With a guttural grunt, he withdrew. The bliss was rolling up his spine. Blasting outward like fireworks in a dark sky. Nothingness, and then a glorious burst of brilliance and light. Gripping himself hard, Wolf spent on her mound, painting the pouting, red lips with his seed.

And he would be a liar if he said the sight of her, drenched in his mettle, breathless and dazed with passion on The Sinner’s Palace’s prized desk, did not fill him with a possessive sense of pride. It was primitive and raw, and he ought to be ashamed for thinking like a beast, but perhaps that was who he was.

Gradually, his sense of honor returned to him. He kissed her again, slowly and tenderly, before tucking himself back inside his trousers. And then, he extracted a handkerchief and cleaned her before reluctantly dropping her gown and petticoats, covering the sight of her long, stocking-clad legs.

Reality intruded, along with the reminder her time here was limited, and growing shorter with each passing second. Now that the haze of desire that had been clouding his mind was lifted, rational thought returned. He didn’t dare fool himself into believing she had risked all in coming here merely for his sake. There had to be another reason. And likely, it was the one that had first brought her here days ago: her missing half brother.

“Now then,” he said into the silence that had fallen between them. “Suppose you tell me why you’ve come.”