When a Rogue Meets His Match - Elizabeth Hoyt Page 0,160
his abdomen, tracing each scar. Her fingers skimmed his ribs, her palms sliding over his hips and around his backside.
She hummed in the back of her throat, and it was all the warning that he got before her lips grazed his jaw, moving down to trace the same path across his chest that her fingers had just taken. Her mouth moved across his skin, her tongue swirling around one nipple and then the other, and the pleasure that tore through him almost made him stagger.
She straightened again, her lips finding his, and he deepened the kiss before she could pull away. He caught the sides of her face with his hands, tipping her head back to give himself better access to her mouth, and there was nothing gentle about his kiss. It was hot and greedy, as if he could funnel all the desperate need that she’d incited within him into it. He wanted to drown in her, sink into all her strength and courage and beauty.
Her hands slid from his backside, one hand closing over his erection, the other cupping his balls. He shuddered, groaning into her mouth. She stroked him once and then again, and his head dropped to her shoulder, dizzying pleasure sizzling through him. Her thumb drifted over the head of his erection, and he nearly came out of his skin. He stepped away from her, knowing that she would undo him where he stood if he let her continue. And he didn’t want to come without her. He needed to be inside her when she came apart, needed to feel her wrapped around him.
He reached for the belt of her robe and pulled on the loose bow, watching as the belt slid to the floor and her robe fell open. He pushed it from her shoulders until she too was standing naked.
He swallowed, his mouth gone dry. In the firelight her honey-kissed skin glowed, her breasts topped by peaked nipples, the line of her waist curving gently before flaring over her hips. Just as visible in the soft light were the scars that covered her own body. A long mark that slashed down her shoulder to end by her elbow. Small streaks of pale skin crisscrossed over her forearms. A wide, puckered gash that had healed badly near her hip. He would ask her about that one. But not now.
Instead he sank down on the pianoforte bench, tugging her forward so that she stood directly in front of him. He bent his head and placed a slow kiss at the ruined skin at her hip, his hands sliding up her ribs to cover her breasts. This time it was Adeline who moaned softly. He rolled her nipples between his fingers, and her hands found his shoulders, her fingers digging into the muscle.
His hands dropped, one sliding over the curve of her buttocks, the other caressing the inside of her thigh. She was trembling, her legs not entirely steady, and this pleased him to no end. He wasn’t the only one being undone. He slipped a finger between her legs, stroking through her wet folds.
She gasped, her fingers tightening on his shoulders. “I need more. I need all of you.”
He stroked her again, and she made another small, desperate sound, and his cock twitched in response.
His hands slid around her hips, and this time he urged her forward so that she was straddling him. “Take what you need.”
Her eyes locked on his as she took him in her hand, guiding him to her entrance. She tilted her hips, the tip of his erection sliding into her heat.
“Don’t look away,” she whispered, and seated herself fully.
Pleasure exploded like a lightning storm, crackling through his body and straight up his spine. He thrust hard up into her, unable to help himself, and she whimpered.
He froze. “Did I hurt you?”
“Never,” she breathed. “Do it again.”
He rocked his hips, and this time she met him. Her inner walls clenched around his erection as he slid rhythmically inside her wet heat, setting a hard pace. She laced her fingers across the back of his neck, holding on to him tightly. King caressed her breast in one hand, dipping his head to catch her nipple with his mouth. He sucked gently and was rewarded with a tortured moan.
“I could die right here, right now, and die happy listening to the sounds you make,” he managed.
“Don’t die yet,” she panted, her fingers leaving his neck to tangle in his hair.