When she reached his thighs, he growled, “Unfasten my trousers.”
With trembling fingers, she reached to do as asked. Her nail traced the edge of the wide black button before slipping it through the hole. There were more buttons underneath, so she carefully undid each one around his bulging erection. Her fingers brushed his belly, the brief contact making him jump. She pressed her lips together to keep from grinning. I affect this gorgeous man with a simple touch.
“Now the braces.”
He made no move to assist her, only held perfectly still as she slipped one brace over his shoulder, then the other. When she finished, she sat back on her knees and waited for him to continue with instructions.
“My shirt.”
His collar and necktie had already been removed, so she leaned in once more and set to work on the small buttons on his chest. His lean muscles rippled beneath her fingers, the carefully leashed power betrayed by his rapid breathing.
When enough buttons were loosened, she dragged the expanse of fabric over his head, Ravensthorpe lifting his arms to help. The thin garment he wore underneath was of the finest cloth, and it outlined the thick muscle and sinew, the flat planes and elegant grace. Another wave of heat rolled through her, centering between her legs.
More.
She was greedy when it came to this man. Dark need buzzed beneath her skin, a yearning to see every bit of him.
When she stared too long, he said, “The undergarment, Violet.”
Instead of unbuttoning the garment at his chest, she reached for his groin. After all, they both knew what she was after, considering she’d asked to see it.
Behind the opening in his trousers, she found small buttons and began working them open. He didn’t speak but she could feel him watching, his intense gaze like a caress over her breasts, along her center. Would he lick her again? Because that one swipe of his tongue between her legs had felt like heaven.
Bare skin appeared as she continued, her first peek at the man underneath the polished exterior. She could hardly breathe for all the excitement coursing through her.
“That’s it,” he said, his voice a silky whisper, and her body shivered under his encouragement.
More.
She purposely paused, just so he would start talking again.
“Keep going. Just one or two more, my little mouse.”
Oh. She pressed her thighs together, nearly groaning under the weight of her longing. She would do anything if he kept speaking to her like that and calling her his. Her hands moved faster now, following his direction as if she’d been born to do it.
Reclining onto his elbows, he lifted his hips slightly as she tugged his trousers low on his hips. Fabric shifted on his stomach, and his erection emerged from between the open sides of his undergarment. His penis sprouted proud and thick from a patch of dark, coarse hair, and she stared at it, fascinated by its reddish cap and smooth, tight skin.
Their breathing and the pop of the fire were the only sounds in the room. Was he assuming she’d run screaming from the house? Hardly. The sight of him made her mouth water. If only she had her photography equipment. . .
She licked her lips, uncertain but definitely eager. “What do I do?”
His dark eyes glittered from underneath his long lashes. “You worship it.”
Yes, yes, yes. Indeed, that she could do.
He watched carefully, every bit of his attention on her, and she vowed not to disappoint him. She dipped to press a kiss to the head of his shaft, not looking away from his eyes. His lips parted and she heard him give a swift intake of breath. Emboldened, she touched her tongue to the same spot, and he hissed a very creative curse.
He reached down, gripped the base with his elegant fingers, and angled his cock toward her mouth. “Suck.”
She wrapped her lips around the plump head and drew him in. His entire body tensed. “More. Take me deep.”
Pressing down, she slid him as far back as she could manage. He tasted clean and musky, so firm and silky on her tongue. It was much better than she’d ever imagined. She repeated the journey, noticing how his cock jerked when her tongue glided over the skin underneath the head. The next pass was slower, with more attention paid to that sensitive spot. His muscles clenched, and the reaction felt like a victory.
She worked hard then, moving faster to show him without words how much she wanted to please him. He grunted and rocked his hips, lost in the moment, until he suddenly lifted her up and away from his erection. In a blink, she found herself on her back, Ravensthorpe leaning over her, pressing her into the floor an instant before he sealed his mouth to hers in a punishing kiss.
This was no sweet melding of lips as described by poets and schoolgirls. No, he devoured her, his mouth immediately opening to give her his tongue. She took it eagerly, widening to allow him in, reveling in the slick heat as his tongue twined with hers. This kiss was a battle, a test. He was showing her all the passion, all the lust inside him, and she had to prove that she could accept it. Prove that she wanted it.
Violet never could resist a challenge.
She kissed him back just as eagerly, with just as much fervor, their lips and teeth crashing into one another as their mouths worked. It was messy, almost angry, and she loved every minute of it. Ravensthorpe kissed as if he could bend the world to his will through this alone, and she wasn’t entirely sure he couldn’t.
Tearing his mouth away, he slid his lips down the column of her throat. “I might not ever recover from the sight of my cock between your lips, sweet girl.”
Her back arched as he bit her skin, his teeth digging deep to mark her, and wetness pooled between her legs. She dug her nails into his back.
Without warning, he sat up. For a moment she worried they were done, but he let his gaze travel the length of her. “I want you naked,” he growled. “Here in my study.”
“Yes,” she breathed, ready to give him almost anything if he’d just continue kissing her.
Relief flashed over his expression, as if he’d feared she would deny him. He made a motion with his hand. “Roll over.”
Max helped Violet turn onto her stomach. He wouldn’t take things far tonight, but whatever happened, he would damn well ensure that Violet enjoyed it. Nothing else mattered at the moment.
Quickly, he unfastened her bodice and unlaced her corset. Untied her bustle and skirts. He was no stranger to women’s clothing, well familiar with the tapes and hooks, and the process took hardly any time at all. Violet remained on her stomach, lifting when he ordered, allowing him to disrobe her.
With the outer layers removed, she was down to a chemise, drawers, and stockings, all white with pink satin ribbons. Perfect skin glowed underneath, the shape of her tempting him, an outline of the curves he’d imagined for months. The tip of his cock leaked, his bollocks aching with the desire to pump inside her. To defile and pleasure her. To ruin her.
You cannot fuck her. You cannot marry her.
But he could do everything else.
“On your back.”
She turned over, giving him the perfect view of her ample tits. Full and ripe, the creamy mounds spilled out over her chemise, the berry-tipped nipples jutting against the thin fabric. Her chest heaved with her excitement, thrusting her breasts higher, and Max’s mouth went dry.
He clenched his fists and contemplated rending the flimsy fabric in half. “Take off your chemise.”