Winter's Woman (The Wicked Winters #9) - Scarlett Scott Page 0,39

soul.

Her heart.

He knew it could never be his, but he was a greedy bastard when it came to Evie, and he meant to make the most of the precious time he had with her. Starting with making her unravel. Tentatively, he licked back to the bud peeking from between her folds. He flicked his tongue over her, lightly at first, giving her time to adjust. Learning what she wanted, what made her quiver and sigh.

Then he sucked her into his mouth once more, watching Evie as he pleasured her. A more glorious sight he had never seen. Words eluded him. She had risen to her elbows, head tipped back, lips parted. Her breasts were full and round.

He gently nipped her and her hips jerked, her gaze meeting his. What he saw in their molten depths spurred him on. He held her stare, nibbled at her pearl, and then sucked hard.

His name fell from her lips like a prayer.

Not Devil, but Theo instead.

When she called him Theo, he wanted to be that to her, for her. He wanted to be hers, damn it. And he knew without a doubt that whatever happened after this fleeting interlude, wherever he went, and regardless of whether she married another, he would be hers. Forever.

There it was. More dangerous longing for something he could never truly have. Stolen moments. This passion. That was all he could lay claim to. Her body, her pleasure. That was what he must settle for. The stars and the sun did not mingle. Night could never dwell in day. Romeo and Juliet did not grow old together. The children of the East End were born with the taste of bitterness and disappointment in their mouths. He should know that better than anyone.

And yet, part of him was desperate to believe there could be a way. That there could be more for them than these stolen pleasures.

There could not.

Even after the intimacies they shared, she would remain Lady Evangeline Saltisford. He would still be Devil Winter. There was no bridge between them, despite what she said before. Tonight had proven that. He belonged in the East End. When he had returned, he had felt at home. He had pummeled his opponent with the aching hands that were now caressing her flesh.

He had to be the one to set her free, the one to protect her. And he would do that soon enough; as soon as he could.

But first, he would be the one to make her come undone.

He teased her with a finger, slicking her dew over her, then alternated between licking her swollen nub and sucking until her body was rocking into his. She undulated beneath him, her breathing emerging in breathy pants. He had to be inside her. If not with his cock, then his finger. Slowly, mindful of her inexperience, he dipped his forefinger into her opening.

Her tight heat gripped him, drenching him.

She was soaked. Her cries spurred him on, along with her body, surging up to meet him, dragging him deeper. He suckled her as he fucked her with his finger, a slow and steady rhythm. How he wished it was his cock she was clamped on. But the evidence of her steadily mounting pleasure was a reward all its own.

Curling his finger inside her and sliding deeper still, he worked her bud with quick, fluttering strokes of his tongue. She clenched on him suddenly, her body shuddering beneath him, her cunny pulsing with the force of her release. Her cream coated his finger, and she was somehow wetter still.

He pressed kisses to her mound, working the last strains of bliss from her. Her golden lashes swept over her brilliant eyes, shielding her stare from view. That was when he realized their gazes had held the entire time he had pleasured her. His prick was hard and long in his breeches, begging to be freed, desperate to sink inside her and feel her wet heat bathe him. To feel her welcome him into her body. To make her his in truth the way he was always hers.

He already knew the next mark he would ask his sister Genevieve to make upon his battered hide. An E for Evie.

“Oh, Theo,” she said, her voice throaty and sated, her body limp and breathtaking on his bed, thieving his ability to say anything of reasonable intellect.

If indeed he had ever been capable. He supposed he had never been a man given to much speech until she had entered his life