I rutted against her, dragging myself up and down, all nine inches of my hardness, right where she wanted it, rotating my hips in a circle on her clit.
“I’m–Stone! I’m going to…” she shuddered, cutting off her desperate words with a gasp, and moved faster against me.
She was losing control, and I was here for it.
My thumb found its way back to her mouth. Since last night in the library, I’d fantasied about fucking her mouth with my thumb while she came. I slipped it inside, and she sucked hard on it, rubbing it with the tip of her tongue. Her movements lost all control, and she thrashed in my arms. With her mouth working my digit like a dummy, she came. She was glorious when she fell apart, exploding in my arms. She was on fire, so responsive that it stole my breath without my hands dipping below her clothes. I was going to destroy her with pleasure and then build her back, piece by piece–mine right from the root.
“I think I just died,” she whispered when the trembling in her arms had eased. Her mouth was slack, and my wet thumb slipped from it. She sagged against my shoulder, and I held her tightly.
“There’s a reason the French call it the petite mort,” I murmured.
“Right. They’re smart,” she sighed, tilting her face up to me. Cheeks flushed and pupils blown, she looked fucking perfect. Blissful and willing, sated and warm and in my arms. I never wanted the moment to end. “What now?” she murmured.
“Now, we go upstairs and do that again, without clothes this time.”
Bella opened her mouth to answer and then stilled. Through the massive house, echoing dimly, a chime sounded.
The doorbell.
“Ignore it. They’ll leave. No one comes here,” I told her, helping her stand up and straightening her clothes.
“Are you sure?” she asked doubtfully, yet hopefully.
I wasn’t the only one desperate to go upstairs, it seemed. The knowledge made me feel like a king. “Don’t you know I’m the depraved demon beast who lives in the haunted house on the hill and takes virginal blood with his coffee?” I teased and was rewarded with a giggle.
“I’m starting to get that vibe,” she quipped.
“I should hope so. You’re next, after all,” I told her, making her laugh again. God, I could live for that sound. Making a woman laugh wasn’t something I’d ever been talented at, and suddenly it felt like the most important skill in the world.
I tugged her hand, and we started through the kitchen. We didn’t get far before the kitchen door opened, which led out the back to the patio and gardens.
“Oh, you are home. I just let myself in. I figured you didn’t hear the bell.”
Bella was staring in horror at the man entering the kitchen. She dropped my hand immediately and took a step away from me, putting distance between us.
Alfie fucking Moore had the worst timing.