Regency Rogues: Stolen Sins: Forbidden Nights with the Viscount (Hadley's Hellions) / Stolen Encounters with the Duchess (Hadley's Hellions)
the bed. ‘Perhaps better not to go there?’
‘How about here?’ He urged her to the end of the bed, sat her down and took a step back. ‘Now, you tell me what you want.’
‘What I want?’ she repeated stupidly.
‘Yes. How do I pleasure you best, my sweet lady?’
At the idea of boldly stating aloud how she wanted him to make love to her, she flushed scarlet. ‘I d-don’t know if I can,’ she stuttered, need warring with embarrassment. ‘I’ve…never done this before.’
He must have sensed she was on the brink of another panicked retreat, for he said quickly, ‘Let me imagine, then. If I do something you don’t want, just stop me.’
Before she could stutter out a reply, he sat beside her, wrapped his arms around her and leaned her back against him. Acutely sensitive to his touch, she jumped with surprise when, instead of the more intimate caress she anticipated, he began to massage her shoulders.
It felt heavenly, though, so good it quieted, for the moment, the shrill voice of passion that wanted more. After a moment, with a sigh, she relaxed against him, leaning back into the soothing ministration of his hands.
‘Yes, relax, my sweet,’ he murmured against her ear. ‘This is for you, only for you. At your pace, according to your desires. Only yours.’
Like water dripping off a roof after rain, she felt doubt and tension slide away, one small drip at a time, until at last she was emptied of all worry. As those turbulent emotions exited, need moved in to fill the space, until her whole body was smouldering in slow, sweet arousal.
As if sensing she was ready for more, he bent down to nuzzle her neck, then sucked and nipped his way towards her ear. She shuddered as he reached the sensitive spot below the lobe, then licked and suckled the edge. ‘Do you like that?’ his whisper rasped in her ear.
‘Yes,’ she breathed, squirming to turn so she might meet his lips.
But gently, holding her in place, he massaged from her shoulder down her arms and under, stroking along her ribs. With a whimper, she arched her back, straining to bring his caressing fingers up to her breasts.
Seeming to understand, he halted, lifting his hands up to cup her breasts. A long shuddering sigh escaped her as he rubbed his thumbs over each peaked nipple.
‘Do you want this?’ he whispered.
‘Yes!’
‘Tell me,’ he urged. ‘Tell me what you want.’
‘I want you to…to caress my breasts,’ she got out, finding it easier this time to voice the need.
She felt his hardness surge against her, and she realised, in a little flash of awe and gratification, that it aroused him to hear her say the words aloud. Emboldened by the knowledge, she said, ‘I want to feel your hands on my naked breasts.’
Ah, once again she felt that delicious hardness press more firmly against her as he bent to place a long, nibbling kiss on the nape of her neck. ‘Gladly.’
The drum of her heart accelerated as he moved away a bit, and she felt his hands unfastening the tapes at the back of her gown. ‘Hurry!’ she urged, increasingly impatient, now that she’d envisioned it, to feel that intimate touch.
He worked the bodice free, and she helped him shrug it off, but the skirt still held shift and stays in place. ‘Females,’ he said, kissing the bit more of her back bared by the removal of the bodice, ‘wear entirely too many garments.’
Murmuring agreement, she wriggled on the bed, expecting him to unlace and remove the restricting skirt. Instead, he reached up to grab a pillow, dragged it down and leaned her back against it.
As she lay back, the stays beneath her breasts pulled the fine linen of her shift tight across her nipples. Before she could think what he was doing, Giles took nipple, fabric and all into his mouth and suckled.
The heat and wetness of his mouth, the friction of the fabric created a sensation both similar, and entirely different, from anything she’d experienced before, when loving had begun only after she’d been completely undressed. The friction sparked a tremor that seemed to go straight to her core, sparking there a similar reaction of warmth, wetness, and tightening the spiral of desire.
His mouth moved to her other breast, bringing the magic of moisture and friction to that nipple while his thumb circled over and rubbed the wet fabric. Tension coiled tighter as the fire within built and built, until she was straining towards the peak.
Her skin flushed with heat, she tossed her head restlessly, tilting her hips, instinctively trying to move in the familiar, rhythmic pattern. As she writhed beside him, he moved his mouth to claim hers, his lips demanding entry, his tongue sweeping in to lave and dominate. At the same time, he swept an arm down under her skirts.
She kissed him back just as fiercely, seeking out his tongue, darting with hers to explore and lave each corner of his mouth. Then gasped, as his hand beneath her skirts caressed and squeezed in a slow ascent…his whole hand surrounding her ankle…two fingers tracing the delicate skin behind her knee…a single finger tracing the top edge of her stocking, sliding under and out, under and out. And finally, finally, while she whimpered her need, he moved the hand up and cupped her.
She wiggled beneath it, wanting him to go further, but for a maddening few moments, he simply rubbed that mound with his whole hand. Finally, when she thought she would shatter if he delayed any longer, he slid two fingers down to caress the tiny bud at her centre.
After so many years of abstinence, it took only this single touch to send her spiralling into the abyss. Crying out, she tensed as pleasure ignited, sending sweet fulfilment rushing outward in waves from her centre through her body to the very tips of her fingers, her toes, her earlobes.
A few mindless moments later, as the tremors faded, she sagged back, replete. In the vastness of the ocean of contentment, one small worry floated forth as, finally conscious of his rapid breaths and the still-hard member pressed against her, she realised he had not yet had his satisfaction.
Before she had recovered enough for speech, he bent to kiss her again, this time light and tender. Murmuring, she opened her mouth to him. But after a minute of gentle caresses, his tongue grew bolder, laving hers, teasing the tip. A spark of arousal flamed up out of the ashes of fulfilment.
Within a few moments, her heartbeat accelerated and she felt the pulse begin to pound in her ears again. And then, he moved his fingers from her little nub and nudged them at the entrance to her passage.
She gasped, arousal building in one giant leap, and pushed against him, wanting the exquisite caress of those fingers to slide deeper, to the very core of her.
But he took his time, progressing deeper ever so slowly, each minute a new bit of flesh igniting as he touched it. When at least he’d penetrated to the depths of her and began a slow advance and withdrawal, advance and withdrawal, she was sobbing with arousal.
But he would not be hurried. Only gradually did he increase the rhythm, and when his thrusting fingers finally reached a rapid tempo, she shattered in a climax so intense, she lost all sense of who and where she was.
When the earth had settled, the stars realigned, and the ability to breathe and speak returned, Maggie gazed up to see Giles watching her, a slight smile on his lips.
She smiled back, tried to lift a finger to trace his lips, and couldn’t quite manage it. He caught her hand and kissed it.
‘That was—glorious,’ she told him. ‘Thank you.’
His smile widened and he made her a little bow. ‘Your humble servant is pleased to serve.’
She shook her head at him. ‘But it’s not right.’
His smile vanished. ‘What do you mean?’
‘That was the most erotic experience of my life—and you are still completely clothed.’