the piano before he had arrived. The door was still ajar. Langdon, who had yet to retire to his country cottage because he was not ready to entrust the household to Dunlop—Langdon’s words—could wander in at any moment. Or Sin’s mother, whose spirits had lifted in the care of her new nurse. Or even Eloise.
“The door is open, Sin,” she protested weakly.
She wanted him so badly, her drawers were soaked, and her sex was pulsing. All from his nearness and those kisses. Her body wanted his the way her heart did. The wickedest part of her was not sure she cared about the door or the possibility of interruption.
“That is a problem easily solved,” he said, releasing her and stalking across the chamber.
Callie would be lying if she said she was not admiring the sight of her husband’s long legs and his delightful arse as he went. He was in shirtsleeves and waistcoat. Who could blame her?
He closed the door and spun around in one deft move. The intensity of his stare turned Callie’s insides to liquid as he made his way back to her. His hands settled on her waist, such as it was these days. He pressed his forehead to hers.
“Better?”
Everything was better when he was touching her.
“Yes,” she whispered.
“Good.” He gave her one of his rare, beautiful grins—the sort that crinkled the corners of his eyes and made him somehow even more deliciously handsome. “I need to taste you.”
“Oh.” It was the only word she could manage.
“Yes, oh.” His grin deepened. Carnal intent emanated from him.
Wicked, wonderful man.
He guided her backward, to the piano bench. Before she knew it, she was seated upon the bench, facing him, legs parted, skirts and petticoats clutched in her hands as he sank to his knees on the Axminster before her.
“You are lucky I am not wearing divided skirts,” she teased.
“No.” His hands were on her knees, on her thighs, caressing through her drawers. The thin, delicate barrier between her skin and his made her wilder, more desperate. “You are lucky, darling. I am going to lick your pretty cunny until you come all over my tongue. And then, I am going to fuck you hard. So bloody hard. Until you come again on my cock.”
If she had not already been seated, she would have melted into a puddle on the floor.
“Yes,” was all she could manage. And then, as an afterthought, “please.”
“Mmm,” he hummed as his head settled between her thighs.
The first stroke of his tongue over her engorged pearl was electric. He sucked. Licked down her seam. Sank his tongue inside her.
“Oh, Sin,” she moaned. He felt so good. His tongue was hot and warm and firm.
“Delicious,” he whispered against her folds, his breath stirring more delirious want.
She leaned against the piano, limp and helpless and mindless. The discordant sound of a half-dozen keys rang through the air. The ivory cut into her back. And still, she did not care. All she wanted was more Sin. More of his tongue. More pleasure. More everything.
Because she knew how he liked when she spoke wickedly, and because she was greedy, she found her voice again. “Make me come. Fuck me with your tongue.”
He did. Oh, how he did. He groaned into her core. His tongue was long and knowing, thrusting into her again and again. She planted her left hand on the piano bench to keep herself from tumbling down, and her right hand went to his head. Her fingers slid through the thick, silky strands of his hair. She grabbed a fistful, and then she pressed him deeper into her cunny, showing him what she wanted.
He licked into her until she came, her channel convulsing with such force, she cried out and shuddered and lost all control. She would have slid to the floor had Sin not caught her. But even as the throes of her release tremored through her, he was not finished. Gently, he drew her to her feet, and then moved them as one to the side of the piano.
“You are a goddess,” he said, planting her hands on the sleek, polished wood. He kissed her ear, then tongued the hollow behind it. “I want inside you.”
“Yes.” The word left her, a needy susurrus.
Her skirts lifted again. Sin’s mouth found her neck, and he lavished kisses upon her greedy flesh. His fingers dipped inside her, testing her readiness. She moaned. He did not need to test. She was more than ready. Heavens, she was desperate.