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“If I must.” Her ennui was unconvincing.

“Surely you can’t tire of the activity already.” He tugged until she tumbled forward, warm and fragrant.

Laughing, she curved around him, lithe as a cat. But when she met his gaze, worry shadowed her features. “Richard, I don’t want to hurt you.”

“Trust me. We’ll manage.” Good God, right now, the pain in his balls outweighed the paltry wound Greengrass had inflicted.

Richard kissed her while his good hand lowered the precarious bodice. They both sighed with pleasure when he palmed one round breast. He smiled against her lips, tasting her gasp as his thumb tested the peak. “I love how you respond.”

“I can’t help myself,” she admitted on another sigh. She rubbed her face across his chest, and the damp heat of her breath added another rich chord to the symphony of arousal.

When she stroked his cock, his hands fisted in the gaping back of her dress. “Damn it, Genevieve—”

Her laugh was husky. “Let me touch you. Let me find out what makes you desperate.”

“You make me desperate.” He leaned against the stone, surrendering his body. The thought of those clever hands discovering his secrets made him giddy.

She slipped off his lap to kneel so close that he barely needed to move to seize her. Clearly she liked playing with fire. She started innocuously, except that her merest touch made him quake. She ran her hand down his neck and along his shoulder.

“Does this hurt?” she whispered.

“Only with wanting you.”

“Good.” A faint smile teased her lips. The urge to kiss her built, but he resisted. He’d promised to show her how much he loved her. If it meant death by pleasure, so be it.

She stroked his clenched fists, learning each bone and sinew. He bit back the demand to hurry.

Flattening her palms across his pectorals, she buried her nose between them. She rubbed her face against the light covering of hair, then opened her lips on his skin, tasting him with a voluptuous enjoyment that made his teeth grind. His heart beat so hard, surely she must feel it.

Lower and lower she ventured. Hands and lips driving him insane. By the time she fumbled at his breeches, his breath emerged in great noisy gusts. Every sense concentrated on his cock. He wanted her to touch him more than he wanted air.

With agonizing slowness, she opened his breeches.

He loved the way she discovered her sensual power. He even loved the way she took her time, excruciating as it was. Then he realized that the torture only started. Tentatively she stroked him. He bit back a groan and she whipped her hand away.

“I’m sorry.”

His smile must be a rictus grin. “Don’t stop.”

There was a pause. Then the soft slide of her fingers, from tip to base and back again. He couldn’t shift his gaze from what she did.

She soon got the idea, thank God. Her depredations became more confident. She lingered at the tip, testing the betraying dampness. If he begged her to kiss him there, she’d be revolted. Probably just as well. Her clumsy yet hellishly arousing fingers made him see stars. If she put her mouth on him, he’d explode.

After an eon of provocation, her fingers curled around him. A shuddering sigh escaped him as she ran her fist up and down his length, before she intensified the agony by relaxing and tightening her hold. He groaned and tilted his head back against the stone. Fire burned behind his eyes. He hardly knew where he was.

He caught her hand. “Take off your drawers.”

To his surprise, she complied immediately. Then he looked into her face and understood that touching him had inflamed her too. She tugged her dress over her head, revealing shift and stays. She removed her hairpins, letting her hair flow around her shoulders.

He wanted her to take off everything. He hadn’t had nearly enough time to explore her body. Eternity wasn’t enough time. But he was so eager, he stretched out his hand. “Come to me, my love. I hunger for you.”

Her expression softened. A sliding movement, a graceful dip and she straddled his lap. His cock rose eagerly between her thighs. Her hands settled on his shoulders as she regarded him with a troubled frown. “This feels bizarre.”

His good hand caught her supple waist. “You’ll like it. You get to be in charge.”

Her lips curved, although the way her skin tightened over her features indicated that she too tested the edges of control. “In that case, I probably will like it.”

“Bring yourself down on me.”


Tags: Anna Campbell Sons of Sin Romance