The Rakehell of Roth (Everleigh Sisters #2) - Amalie Howard Page 0,110

hair, winding into the tendrils that had escaped her braid and tightened when she took the broad crown into her mouth. His essence was spicy with a hint of brine, not unpleasant, but like nothing she’d ever tasted. Inexplicably, she wanted more.

Keeping her hands firmly around his base, she worked her mouth over him, reveling in the indecent grunts coming from him. His grip tightened in her hair and she felt her own arousal heighten at the slight pain.

“Fuck, Isobel,” he groaned. “Enough or I’ll spend.”

Her mouth slid off of him as she met his eyes down the glorious landscape of his sweat-sheened body. “Isn’t that the point?”

“How do you even know such a thing?” he bit out when she gave a leisurely lick.

She warmed at the praise, but had to give credit where it was due, though it was kind of self-praise in a way. “Lady Darcy.”

“Why am I not surprised?” he said with a guttural laugh. “That harridan lives to corrupt innocent ladies.”

Isobel gave a pretend nip, making him yelp. “I think the word you’re looking for, Lord Rakehell, is enlighten. Or elucidate. Or educate. Our sex does not appreciate being kept in the dark like forgotten mushrooms.”

“Fair point, but I’m forced to concede it given my precarious position at your questionable mercy.”

“You doubt me? I’m wounded, husband.” She licked her lips and took him deep.

With a strangled noise, Winter hooked his hands beneath her shoulders and dragged her up so she was splayed on top of him like a loose-limbed ragdoll. “Not this time,” he growled. “I want to be inside of you where I belong when I come.”

In a swift move, he flipped her back under him. Isobel trembled at the savage look on his face. His eyes were almost black with desire, his body coiled and tense like a predator ready to claim what was his. And she was ready to be claimed. As much as he played at letting her have control, Isobel loved this side of him when he took charge. She wanted to be possessed by him. Owned by him. Swived to within an inch of her life.

She grinned at her indelicate thoughts, her body drowning in delicious want.

“What were you thinking just then?” he asked, positioning his body between her hips.

Boldly, devotedly, she met her husband’s eyes. “That I want you to fuck me senseless.”

“Christ, Isobel,” he grated, his cock jerking wildly against her, “you cannot say such things to me!”

“Why?” she teased and tilted her own hips to receive him, feeling him notch into place where she was hot and wet. “When you clearly like it so much?”

“I do like it, but I want to be gentle.”

“I don’t want gentle. I want you as you are.”

Winter didn’t question her desire. He entered her in one powerful thrust that wrenched a low moan of approval from Isobel’s chest. God, he filled her to bursting. But like with his hand on her hair before, the pain of his entry and his girth skirted the edges of pleasure, blurring them into something indefinable. Something transcendent.

“Good so far, love?” he ground out huskily, withdrawing slightly and shoving back in.

“Yes.” It was a gasp of need. “I need you to move. Now!”

His laugher rumbled against her. “Patience, little tigress.”

When he did begin to move, his huge body owning hers with every deep pull and slide, Isobel could only hold on, wrapping her ankles around the backs of his firm, hair-roughened thighs and digging her nails into the meat of his shoulders. There would be marks left there, she was sure, but she didn’t care. She wanted to mark every inch of him as he was marking her.

The pleasure began to build as ribbons of heat cascaded from between her legs to the rest of her body, tethering her to that one spot. To him. To where they were joined.

“Harder, Winter,” she commanded.

His eyes widened, but she nodded. She wanted him unleashed. Ungoverned. Wholly him. His pace increased as he flung one of her legs over his shoulder, pressing so deeply into her body that she could feel him everywhere. The position made his pelvis drag against her sex, sparks of pleasure bursting every time his body ground into hers.

Her eyes screwed shut when it became too much to bear. “Oh God, Winter…don’t stop.”

“I’ll never stop.”

Her orgasm burst from her like an explosion, relentlessly burning everything in its path until there was nothing left but passion and ash. She felt him slow, his body thickening on