He groaned in agreement as he diligently kissed the crook of her neck, swiping his tongue just enough to make her shiver. “And I’ve enjoyed watching you enjoy it. I nearly maimed myself at the sounds you made over that Bordeaux sauce.”
She huffed a laugh as she held on to his shoulders. “In my defense, it was made with a large quantity of cream, as is the glacé that I will now be deprived of.” He felt the vibrations of her delighted laugh as he made his way down to her collarbone, kissing warm skin until he reached her breasts. He smiled against the warmth of her, almost overcome by the devastating pleasure of having her in his arms.
“I’ll buy you whatever sweets you’d like tomorrow. I’ll have Cyrus raid every patisserie in Paris.”
“But this glacé is famous and it’s topped with raspberries. And they have chocolates.” Even though Arlo was not certain on the whether her amorous moan was due to his attentions or Marena’s penchant for chocolate, his cock still made a valiant effort to break through the placket of his trousers.
“I’ll send him to the Marais for berries and then to every chocolatier in Paris,” he said, his hand cupping her sex over the many layers of her dress. He pressed two fingers to the seam, making her gasp. He wanted to fit himself in between her thighs and bury himself inside. He was vibrating with the need of it. “I’ll have him come here and get you the blasted ice cream. I need to touch you. Can I touch you?”
“Yes, please,” she said ardently, and he made short work of lifting her onto the sideboard.
“You are a miracle in silk and spectacles.” He pulled back to look at her.
“The things you say, Your Grace.” She was smiling at him, amusement making her eyes sparkle, and again he felt things shift in him. He wanted more, so much more.
“Spread your legs.”
“For a man that claims to not fit well into the nobility, you are certainly good at barking out orders.” The expression on her face as she leaned back to consider him, provocative and brash, was a sight to behold. “Are you certain there’s something there you want?” With that, she crossed her legs, taunting him. Good God, he wanted to ravage her.
He punched his fists into his trouser pockets and offered her the same heavy-lidded look she was giving him. “More than I have wanted anything in my life.” He tried to grin, as if this were a bit of fun, but he felt those words in a forgotten corner of his heart. A place that had been closed so firmly he scarcely knew it.
“When I know what I want, I make sure I get it.”
“And what you want is to have me in this cellar.” Very slowly, her legs moved under her skirts until they were parallel to each other on the sideboard.
“What I want, with your consent, of course, darling,” he said, hands itching to touch her, “is to spread your legs, slide the necessary layers of fabric off you, and avail myself of that sweet little cunt I can’t seem to stop thinking about.” He licked his lips for good measure, and he heard the tiniest hitch of breath.
“If only you’d said so from the beginning.” She teased and obliged by giving him access between her thighs, a secret smile on her face.
He slid the dress up and went to his knees with his heart hammering in his chest, cock painfully hard. “You’ve been bare all night,” he groaned, feeling his control being edged out by powerful need. He placed his hands on the inside of her thighs, opening her to his view.
“I decided it was sensible planning,” she said voice tight. “I seem to have left every ounce of sense back in London.” His chest rumbled in a appreciation as she tipped her hips forward, giving more access. “It felt like the practical thing to do.”
“Practical, of course,” he said, entranced. He quickly wet two of his fingers, then knelt so his mouth was right at her core. He could see beads of liquid forming there already, and he used his digits to go searching for the little nub. “Have you been ready for me all night, sweetheart?” He flicked the little peak with his tongue as he pushed a finger inside her, and was rewarded with a gasp for his efforts.
“I’ve been like this since the moment you walked in my shop.” Her voice trembled as he feasted on her. He placed his lips around her clitoris and sucked while she moaned and writhed for him. He had her reaching her crisis in minutes, her walls clamping on his fingers and her pleasure rushing onto his tongue.
“Arlo.” When she said his name like that, he felt like he could raze the world to have her like this always.
“Tell me what more you want,” he pleaded.
“I want to touch you,” she said, her eyes hot, and he thought for a second that he saw more than just lust there. There was a softness, a warmth he had not seen before. His heart drummed in his chest at the possibility of it. She reached for him, and he stood.
Soon they were kissing again, her hands fumbling with the placket of his trousers. Her hands rubbing over the fabric, fingers sliding over the shape of him until he was painfully hard.
“Mmm,” she hummed as she opened the placket of his trousers and pulled his cock out, the sound making him impossibly harder. “This is impressive. You certainly don’t require my vigor tinctures.” she purred, surprising a bark of laughter out of him. But soon he was holding on to the edge of the sideboard and fucking into her hand in earnest. He shivered as she used the beads of liquid gathering at the head of his cock to ease her strokes with one hand and tugged on his balls with the other.
“You are impressive in your own right, sweetheart,” he said, barely containing a moan when she tightened her grip on the head of his cock. He bent down to kiss her and pulled down the bodice of the dress, looking for her breasts, needing to have his mouth and hands full of her.
“Ah,” she gasped as he tweaked a nipple between his fingers and kissed her jaw, the side of her mouth, and finally her lips. She sucked on his tongue as she redoubled her efforts, stroking him like her hand had been made solely for that task. Fire licked at his spine, pleasure building and building as he slid his fingers into her heat while he thrust into her hand.
“I want to hear you come apart again, beauty,” he demanded between kisses, his head fuzzy. He felt his orgasm coming, that exquisite pressure before the release. “Your hands are a marvel, Marena.”
“I like how you say my name,” she confessed, as his climax barreled into him, and in that last second, he thought, This is what bliss feels like.
“Marena.” Her eyes were still bright, but there was a bit of uncertainty there, and that would not do. He took her chin between his fingers and gave her the sweetest kiss he’d ever given anyone. “Would you say that was at least as good as the finest dessert in Paris?”
Her lips turned up and his heart drummed in his chest.
“No raspberry sauce, but delicious in its own way.” She smiled against his mouth, their foreheads pressed together. He’d never been callous with the women he’d taken to his bed, but he was not one to crave closeness after lovemaking. To press in instead of pulling back. Except now, he could not seem to stop touching her.
“You’re delectable and addictive. The more I taste, the more I want,” He tried to sound casual, but the pressure in his chest at having the words out in the open told a different story. She let him work to put her skirt to rights in silence, and when he finally helped her down from the sideboard, he was sure she would distance herself from him.