Devil's Daughter (The Ravenels #5) - Lisa Kleypas Page 0,57

breasts free of the half cups. She felt the wet touch of his tongue, a line of heat painted across a tense nipple. His lips closed over her and tugged gently, sending shocks of pleasure down to her toes. Moving to the other breast, he drew the tender budded peak into his mouth, sucking and playing with it.

One of his hands reached down to grasp the front of her skirts, pulling up the fabric until the only layers between them were his trousers and the thin cotton voile of her drawers. He let her have more of his weight, hardness nudging against swelling softness, relieving the hot ache. She felt the slight roughness of his palm cupping beneath her breast, his thumb prodding and stroking the tip. No matter how she tried to stay still, pleasure stirred all through her . . . pulses, twitches, flutters, all begging to be gathered into a single chord of release. Her hips nudged upward in a rhythmic movement beyond her control. Later, she would be mortified at the memory of her wanton behavior, but for now the need was too overpowering.

A whimper rose in her throat as West rolled to his side, relieving her of his weight, and she tried to bring him back to her.

He was breathing in unsteady surges. “Phoebe—No, I’m so close, I can’t—”

She interrupted him, her mouth locking onto his in a demanding kiss. With a smothered laugh, he relented and pressed her back down into the chaotic ruffles of her dress. The loosened bodice pulled tight over her arms, making it difficult to move. He kissed her exposed breasts and licked the undersides, nuzzling the plush curves. Reaching beneath her skirts, he found the open split of her drawers. His palm skimmed the tops of soft, dry curls in repeated passes, the sensation working down to the follicles and sending a quiver of awareness through her. Very gently he parted the curls and ran a fingertip along the private furrow.

Craving more pressure, more explicit contact, she pushed up against his hand, but his touch remained light and unhurried as he explored the intricate crevice. Oh, God, he knew what he was doing, coaxing her response by gradual degrees, making her wait in helpless anticipation. Softly, almost as if by accident, he teased deeper until his fingertip grazed the bud of her clitoris. Her entire body jerked.

A hungry shudder wracked her as his touch withdrew. “Oh, please . . .” she whispered through dry lips.

West looked down at her with a faint smile, his eyes smoldering-blue. His head lowered to her breast, his lips closing over the tip. For long minutes he suckled and licked, while his hand traversed her body in leisurely paths. She simmered and ached and moaned, forgetting everything but the pleasure of what he was doing to her. After torturous delays and detours, he finally reached between her thighs and touched the wet, vulnerable entrance of her body. Her hands gripped his shoulders, and she panted into the open neck of his shirt, her legs tensing. The blunt tip of a finger worked its way inward, the thickness of a knuckle stretching tender flesh. There was movement deep inside her . . . teasing strokes . . . a peculiar pressure that sent a shot of heat to the quick of her body.

Slowly he eased his finger out and toyed with the silky flanges of her inner lips as if they were petals before circling the taut peak of her sex. One wet fingertip moved easily over her swollen flesh, the slight abrasion of a callous rasping delicately, causing her toes to curl. Tension coiled inside her, so erotic and unbearable she would have done anything to relieve it.

“How sensitive you are,” he whispered against her burning cheek. “It might be better for you . . . gentler . . . if I used my tongue. Would you like that?”

A breath stuck in her throat.

Amusement danced in the hot blue depths of his eyes as he saw her reaction.

“Oh . . . I don’t think . . .” was all she could manage to say.

His lips brushed lightly over hers. “My motto is, ‘You’ll never know unless you try it.’”

“That’s the worst motto I’ve ever heard,” she said faintly, and he grinned.

“Well, it makes life interesting.” Those clever, wicked fingers tickled between her thighs as he whispered, “Let me kiss you here.” At her hesitation, he urged, “Yes. Say yes.”

“No, thank you,” she said in

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