The Rakehell of Roth (Everleigh Sisters #2) - Amalie Howard Page 0,109

still undulated through Isobel’s satisfied body. He was very, very good at that. Extraordinarily good.

Ice sluiced through her and she bit her lip, stilling beneath him. She had to ask, even though this was not the best time to do so, she had to know. “Winter, did you ever…” She trailed off, embarrassed. “With the auctions at The Silver Scythe, was this part of it?”

He had to understand what she was asking: whether sexual pleasure was part of the prize.

“No,” he said, those silver eyes of his capturing hers. “Not for me. One time it was to attend a ball with a wallflower. Needless to say, she was engaged within a fortnight after being seen on the Rakehell of Roth’s arm.”

Isobel smiled. “Cocky.”

His hips rolled slightly, his hardness pressing against her sensitive softness, making her gasp. “Indeed,” he went on with a wicked grin. “Another time was to make a prospective suitor jealous enough to propose to a lady. Also, no surprise when he did. And the last time, last year, you saw what Lady Hammerton had me do.”

Isobel did—that gorgeous portrait of masculine beauty was etched into her mind.

“Why do you do it?” she asked. “The auctions?”

“At first, when I wanted to raise money for Prue’s shelter, we started offering items that patrons wanted to donate or get rid of—paintings, jewelry, and whatnot. And then one evening when I was modeling a particularly fetching timepiece, the notorious hellions, Lady Verne, Beswick’s aunt, and of course, her partner in crime, Lady Hammerton, called out a ridiculous sum for both me and the watch. And thus, the idea was born.” He smiled. “It was fun, made money, and people loved it. The men take it in good sport, some women feel vindicated in having a man at their beck and call, and everyone’s happy.”

Isobel squirmed beneath him, pleasure starting to build at the lean, hard sensation of him pressing her into the ground. She looped her arms around his neck and drew him down for a kiss. His mouth was warm and soft, and tasted shockingly of her own arousal and a deeper flavor that was uniquely him. She couldn’t get enough.

“I like having you at my beck and call,” she whispered when they broke apart, panting for breath. “And right now, I command you to lie on your back. It’s my turn to play the adventurer.”

“Is it?” His eyes darkened, but he complied when she gave a firm nod. “As you wish.”

He rolled them over in a swift motion that made her breath stick in her lungs, and then she was straddling him in the most lewd, pleasurable position possible. Isobel gorged her fill of him, eyes tracing those golden stacks of muscle, his broad shoulders and that chiseled face fit for a Greek God. Handsome was too tame a word to describe him.

Her fingers stroked his chest, making the coiled muscle beneath leap. She circled the small coins of his nipples, watching them tighten, and then bent her head to sample them with her tongue. Winter groaned her name and she smiled. She wanted him to be moaning it, shouting it. Shimmying down the length of him, she dragged her mouth over each tight ridge of his abdomen, licked into his navel—which made his hips jerk—and then went lower.

“Isobel.” The whisper was a warning. A plea. A benediction.

She stared curiously at the appendage that interested her the most. Winter’s cock. Lady Darcy had done an expose on names to describe coitus and its various parts, including the filthier ones. Thank goodness for Lady Darcy, Isobel thought now, or she might not be able to continue. The thought that this part of him had fit into her body made her core muscles warm and clench.

Unable to stop her exploration, her fingers slid over him, not even completing the circumference. His cock was hot and silky-smooth, the lightly furred globes at its base round and tight. She caressed them, too, taking pleasure in watching his every reaction to her touch.

“Do you like this?” she couldn’t help asking, stroking from base to tip.

He groaned. “Yes.”

She wanted to put her mouth on him. Though she and Clarissa had discussed this shocking act at great, clandestine length, she was still unsure. But if it felt half as good as it’d been for her when he’d kissed her there, she suspected it would please him.

A bead of liquid gathered at the top as her fingers slid down his shaft again. Gentle hands fell into her