She squirmed out of his hold and inched down his body, pausing on the way to kiss his hair-roughened chest. “I’ll remember that.”
*
Chapter Twenty-One
*
Surely Garson must be dreaming when his fastidious wife stared at his dick as though it was indeed a famous monument. Despite his lurid fantasies, he’d never imagined Jane would be bold enough to perform this brazen act.
He’d been hard for what felt like hours. Dear God, she had him in a perpetual fever, even before this latest offer to rocket him to heaven. He’d expected his hunger to lose its edge, once he’d possessed her. But ever since that astonishing night of transcendent passion in Salisbury, his appetite had only increased with feeding. He became a complete satyr. Jane just had to look at him sideways, and he was ready to jump on her.
When he’d called himself the luckiest cove in England, he hadn’t exaggerated. Hell, right now, he felt like the luckiest cove in the whole world. He wouldn’t change places with the King himself.
Partly to combat the temptation to grab her, he stretched out flat and folded his arms behind his head. Protracted and excruciating torture lay ahead.
He could hardly wait.
Tentatively, she reached out to curl her fingers around his aching cock. The blast of heat that jolted him almost made him explode, and he bit back a groan. Over the last week, she’d become less shy about touching him, but he always sent blasphemous thanks to heaven when she stroked him like this.
Her expression was solemn, as if she solved some intellectual problem. The pretty blue nightdress and peignoir floated around her, adding a tantalizing touch of modesty. He loved her naked, but there was something delicious about the promise of nakedness to come.
Determination lit her silvery eyes, and she shifted to straddle his legs. Then with a languor made to shatter him, she leaned forward. A curtain of glossy auburn tumbled forward. Her loose garments gaped at the neck, providing heart-stopping glimpses of her lovely breasts.
This was the first time Jane had taken the lead. She was an eager participant in everything they did—even if sometimes he had to coax her into playing—but she let him set the agenda. Not this time. The change in their roles fed his excitement.
Anticipation flooded him, as he waited in an agony of suspense for what she did next.
What she did next threatened to blast him into a pile of smoking ashes.
Slowly, so slowly he could hardly endure it, she lowered her head. His cock jerked when the humid heat of her breath drifted across the sensitive head. She glanced up, a flash of bright silver that sliced through him like a blade. Then soft pink lips brushed the tip.
“Hell’s bells.” Surely his very blood must boil away to nothing.
She kissed him again, then every angel in heaven sang hallelujah when she dipped to take him into her mouth. A fusillade of responses zapped through him, turning him to stone. The hardest part of all basked in wet, sultry heat. The craving to raise his hips, make her take more, was nigh irresistible. Where would his beautiful wife lead him, now he let her steer the course of this encounter?
She flicked her tongue against him and tightened her grip. Then stopped and raised her head. He grabbed the headboard with shaking hands to save himself from seizing her and pushing her down. She was going to kill him.
“Don’t stop,” he choked out.
A frown wrinkled her brow. “You don’t seem to be enjoying it.”
Even through his urgency, he couldn’t contain a grunt of grim laughter. “If I enjoy it any more, I’ll burn to a crisp.”
Relief filled her face. “Am I doing it right? I want you to like it.”
How could he veer so close to flying apart in a million flaming fragments, yet still want to laugh? He wasn’t used to this barrage of emotions. Jane had this extraordinary ability to engage his senses and his feelings at the same time.
Now despite the pounding need to put his cock into her mouth, his most powerful response was tenderness. This combination of uncertainty and daring was so true to his wife.
“I’ll like it.” Even if he knew that she’d subject him to the torments of the damned before she was done. “Whatever you do.”
He cupped her cheek and rubbed his thumb over her lower lip, feeling the lush cushion of flesh give under the gentle pressure. Best to avoid picturing those lips closing around him. Otherwise he’d lose himself here and now.
Jane turned her head and drew his thumb into her mouth, rousing inevitable thoughts of what else Garson wanted her to do. When her tongue rasped against his skin, heat sizzled through him and he gritted his teeth to contain a guttural groan. Then all the air escaped him in a whoosh as she sucked.
Damnation, he’d never survive this. He closed his eyes and snatched for air until he stopped seeing colored lights behind his eyelids. The pressure relaxed, and he struggled for control. “Damn it, Jane, do that again.”
He opened his eyes to meet a speculative expression. She pulled his hand away from her mouth, pausing to kiss his knuckles with one of those heart-arresting gestures of affection that he should be used to by now, but somehow wasn’t.