Page 9 of One Night with an Earl

“Oh, I like it very much.”

His eyes flared, and stark hunger hardened his features. “God, you’re not faking this, are you?”

She had lost all ability to answer. Her body was thrumming with need, a need she instinctively knew he could satisfy.

“You are so responsive and wet.” His finger stalled.

She cried out. “Don’t stop. Please.”

He groaned, but thankfully, he continued to stroke her. She thrust her breasts toward him, her body arching like a bow. One more delicious stroke, then passion inched through her veins and she shattered in his arms.

“Oh, my.”

His searing gaze raked over her. “You were made for sin.”

He left her to remove his boots and trousers. She raised herself on her elbows to watch. Her eyes widened at the sight of him naked. His cock sprang free, bold and hard. He was all male, all hard, and all beautiful. For the first time, a tremor of uncertainty tugged at her stomach at the size of his body.

His face was fierce as he climbed above her. “I can’t wait. You’ve made me lose all reason.”

“Why is that wrong?”

Without answering, he braced himself above her and kissed her as he spread her thighs with his big hands. The crown of his shaft slid down her slickness, then poised at the entrance to her body. He inched inside and she felt an incredible fullness. There was no pain, and she relaxed. Madame Crescent must have been wrong.

In one smooth motion he thrust deep inside her, and she gasped and stifled a cry in his shoulder at the sharp sting. He stiffened, a perplexed look flashing across his face.

She held up a hand as her breath came in shallow gasps. “Wait a moment.”

“Wait?”

She bit her bottom lip. “You are large.”

He grit his teeth. “And you’re tight.”

A heartbeat passed. Then another. He braced himself above her, and she wiggled her hips. He partly withdrew, then slid inside an inch. Then another.

“Is it better?” His voice was hoarse.

“Yes.”

“So damned tight.” He sounded in pain, and his own breathing was harsh.

As he started to move, a rush of moisture eased the sting, and her body stretched to accept him.

“Wrap your legs around my waist,” he said.

She did, and her nails left crescent shapes in his muscular biceps.

He groaned once more and increased the pumping of his hips. He leaned forward to kiss her as each thrust touched that secret place between her thighs. She unfurled beneath him, her own need rising again. He thrust deeply once more, and blood coursed through her veins. They moved together, urgent and in unison.

He clenched his jaw. “I can’t hold off much longer.”

Don’t stop! Not yet! She climbed higher and higher, and this time, she knew what to expect. She opened her eyes to watch him, watched the slabs of chest muscle flex as he moved. Her breasts brushed his chest, her heart thundering, as waves of ecstasy pulsed through her. He thrust once, twice more, then threw back his head, a moment of vulnerability crossing his chiseled features, then he poured his seed inside her.

He rolled to the side, taking her with him, his breath hot against her cheek. She memorized everything from the feel of his arms around her, to their bodies pressed against each other, to the sheer gold panels cocooning them in the aftermath of their lovemaking.

Oliver.

One night to last an entire lifetime.