her a nip. At the bite of pleasure-pain, she arched into him, whimpering when the motion brought her pussy up against his muscled thigh, giving her friction where she needed it. She felt herself dampening the silk of her negligee.
“Ride my leg, sweetheart,” he said huskily. “Come for me while I kiss your tits.”
Panting, she gave into his naughty order. She clutched onto his hard shoulders and squirmed wantonly against him. He redoubled his attentions on her breasts, cupping and kneading them, his fierce sucking pulling at her core. Her pussy contracted as he drew hard on her nipples. Desperate for relief, for him, she rubbed herself against the firm ridge of his leg, moaning his name as she soared on a crest of pleasure.
His wife was always pretty, but at the height of rapture, she was incomparable. Severin took an instant to drink in her beauty: her passion-flushed cheeks, her big brown eyes dazed with bliss. Her beauty mark quivered as she panted, her lush, rosy lips parted like the gate to temptation. For a wild instant, he saw himself taking her mouth, kissing her with all the need burning inside him.
He had just enough willpower to resist the urge. It wasn’t fair to her; she deserved more than an imitation of the real thing. The one request she’d made of him was not to kiss her unless he meant it. Thus, he couldn’t do it. But he could do other things to her.
Christ, he needed to.
Although he’d planned to have a talk with her this eve, lust got the better of him. Conversation could wait; his desire for his wife could not. He stripped off his robe and threw it aside. Fancy’s eyes followed his movements. He dragged his nightshirt over his head, and she ran her gaze over his bulging chest muscles, the flexing ridges of his belly, all the way to his erect cock.
When she wetted her lips, he nearly groaned. He fisted his rod, running his hand up and down the heavy shaft.
“Like what you see, chérie?” he asked silkily.
“Yes.” The unabashed approval in her eyes lured a drop of seed from his tip. “I take it this means you approve o’ the nightclothes Madame Rousseau made for me?”
Her satisfied little smile made him grow even harder.
“I like them,” he said. “But I like what’s underneath even more. Raise that skirt for me, sweeting, so that I can see what’s mine.”
Her bared breasts rose and fell at his command, the tips taut and cherry red. Slowly, she reached for the hem of her negligee and pulled it up her shapely legs.
“All the way, sweet,” he coaxed. “Let me see your pussy.”
Blushing, she did as he asked, squirming to get the silk past her hips. His nostrils flared as he drank in the sight of his duchess on her dressing table, her nightgown now bunched at her waist, her beautiful breasts, legs, and cunny exposed. Feral instincts tore through his gentlemanly restraint.
“Are you wet for me?” he asked.
She gave a shy nod.
“Show me.”
She blinked at him.
“Touch your cunny, sweet,” he said thickly. “Show me how ready you are for my cock.”
Her lips parted on a shocked breath, and he wondered if he’d pushed her too far. If he’d revealed too much of his bestial nature. Then her hand crept bashfully downward, and his heart drummed as her fingertips brushed her dark nest. She touched herself furtively, dipping a fingertip into the top of her slit, her bottom lip catching beneath her teeth.
“I’m ready,” she whispered.
Lust seared him at the sight of her finger glistening with her dew. His erection swelled, testing the limits of his grip. He brought his weeping cockhead to her tender opening, and when she would have moved her hand, he stopped her.
“Keep petting yourself,” he grated out.
He pushed inside, watching with animal greed as his thick shaft spread his wife’s pretty pink folds. She was watching too—and feeling his penetration not just with her pussy but with her fingers. Obeying his instruction, she was petting herself, rubbing her pearl, her fingertips brushing over his invading rod.
Feeling her delicate touch as he debauched her was too much. With a growl, he slammed his hips, burying himself fully. Pleasure blazed up his spine at the exquisite constriction. His wife’s hot, wet hole was bloody made for his cock. Gripping her hips, he plowed her with bestial urgency, with desperate need he couldn’t contain. Her sweet moans accompanied the hard slaps of his thighs as