over again, teasing and stroking it, his touch still maddeningly light, but faster now. “You look so beautiful like this, Cecilia. So wet for me.”
Small, helpless cries tore from Cecilia’s lips as he increased the pressure, his slippery fingers working her, gliding over her center. Her hips began to move in the same rhythm as his hands, chasing his touch until a low growl rumbled in his chest.
Cecilia cried out in protest when he withdrew his hand, leaving her open and throbbing for his touch. “No!” She tried to grab his wrist, but he was already lying flat on his stomach on the bed. She felt his hot breath drift over her aching core, and his palms against the insides of her thighs. “Open wider for me, sweetheart,” he demanded, his voice harsh and tight. “Yes, like that. That’s what I want.”
A fleeting thought flew through Cecilia’s head—that she would have given him anything he asked for at that moment, anything he wanted, but it was gone again in an instant when she felt something fluttering against her…there…a soft tickle, the flick of the tip of his tongue, quickly, once, then again, and then…God, over and over again, teasing and stroking and making her wild for him, her hips arching to get closer to his teasing mouth.
She whimpered and moaned and cried out for him, and Gideon gave her what she wanted, what she needed, and more—all the things she didn’t know she wanted, didn’t know she needed. His hot, panting breaths, his tongue and lips, kissing and nibbling and sucking at her, his low, crooning voice telling her how beautiful and perfect she was, and urging her to take what she needed, take her pleasure…
Then she was falling, tumbling over the edge into a bliss she’d never known before, sharp and sweet at once, and Gideon stayed with her, his hands holding her hips to the bed as he took her through the delirium, his mouth gentling and slowing as the peak passed and the knot inside her unraveled, slow and so sweet, until she was lying boneless against the bed, half dazed, Gideon’s head resting on her belly, and her hands in his hair.
It was some time before Cecilia came back to herself, but at last her breathing calmed, and she was able to raise her head. Gideon looked up when he felt her shift, and a satisfied smile curved his lips when he saw her face. “Are you…was that all right?”
An incredulous laugh left Cecilia’s lips, and she gave his hair a playful tug. “Was it all right? It was a good deal better than all right, although I may never move again.”
Gideon’s smile widened, as if he was pleased to find he’d rendered her comatose. He lifted his head from her belly as she held out her arms to him, and he shimmied up the bed to gather her close. He pressed a kiss on her forehead, then eased her head against his chest. “Go to sleep, sweetheart.”
Sleep? But surely, that wasn’t…all?
No, at one time she might have thought so, but she did live in London, and she was one of Lady Clifford’s pupils. She’d seen a number of things another young woman might not have, and heard even more. Whatever few mysteries remained had been dispelled by Sophia, after her marriage to Lord Gray.
Cecilia knew very well the long, hard length Gideon was trying to keep from prodding into her hip meant he hadn’t taken his pleasure, and that he was certainly suffering now because of it. She also knew he was attempting to be decent and noble, the ridiculous man.
Well, she wouldn’t have it. The bedroom was no place for decency and nobility.
Cecilia raised her head from Gideon’s chest, and before he knew what she was about she’d scrambled to her knees. Her expression must have given her away, because Gideon’s eyes widened as his gaze met hers. “Cecilia, what are you—”
“I’m not ready to sleep yet.” She braced her hands on his chest, and with one quick move settled herself on top of him, her thighs straddling his hips. Her gaze moved hungrily over his bare chest and flat stomach. “I’m not tired,” she murmured, teasing her fingers through the line of dark hair that disappeared into his breeches.
His mouth opened, but he struggled to get any words past his lips as his heated gaze moved slowly over her bare, flushed skin, lingering on the curves of her breasts. “I-I don’t think we