Page 79 of Bloodgrove

Elodie swallowed. A blade of moonlight passed through the dark carriage, illuminating her kneeling figure and her fists clenched in the skirts.

Then she leaned forward, extended her tongue, and drew it slowly—agonizingly slowly—from his base to his fingers. A helpless moan escaped him. He clenched his jaw and let her continue. Her tongue passed over his heated skin until he was hard as steel.

Only then did he offer her the head. “Open your mouth for me.”

Elodie might have been kneeling before him, eager to learn, but she would not have been herself if she had not claimed some fragment of control. Instead of obeying at once, she continued to lick him, circling the head with her tongue and pressing its tip against his slit. While his mind screamed for permission to enter the heat of her mouth, she explored him as though drawing a map.

And she knew exactly what he was thinking. The little devil smiled up at him, licked him once more from base to tip, and finally—finally—took him into her mouth.

“Very good,” he growled. His free hand dug into the brocade upholstery to keep himself from lifting his hips and thrusting into her. Gods, he had seen her unravel before, but now, in this selfish moment, he wanted to drive his cock into her throat until tears filled her eyes. Until she gagged and swallowed around him and still wanted more.

“You look so beautiful with my cock in your mouth,” he praised.

She sucked cautiously, her tongue dancing around the head as lightning flashed through his every nerve.

“Deeper.”

Elodie obeyed, his command seeming only to spur her on. She took him as far as she could, stopping before discomfort turned to pain. Again and again, she lowered her mouth over him, her tongue moving along his shaft, her lips sucking on the head.

She slipped off her gloves and reached for him, intending to add her hand to the urgency of her mouth, but he stopped her.

“Spit on it.”

“What?” she breathed, going still.

“You heard me.” He stroked his fist along his shaft, spreading her saliva, but there was not enough. “Imagine it sliding into your hot, wet cunt. How easily it would enter when everything is slick and all it has to do is glide inside. Spit on it.”

There was something uniquely perverse in giving such filthy commands to a duchess, but nothing compared with watching her obey. With all the elegance of a sailor, she spat on him. Then she spread the moisture with bold strokes, her hand so much smaller than his around his cock.

With a groan, his head fell back against the seat, and he swept loose strands from his face. She stole his breath. She was not yet especially skilled, but she learned quickly, and her hunger made up for anything else.

But he was not finished with her.

“Take my balls into your mouth.” He could barely force out the words, but the look of startled disbelief upon her face made it worthwhile. Both hands still upon his shaft, his tip still in her mouth, she stared up at him.

“Must I repeat myself?” he asked. “Suck them. Gently.” He could not suppress his mocking smile. Keeping one hand around his shaft, Elodie lowered her mouth.

“Damnation.” Will’s eyes closed at the sensation of her hot, wet lips around him. “What an eager student.”

Her tongue moved, sucked, teased, while her hand resumed its motion over his cock. His fingers buried themselves in her hair—he could no longer resist—and guided her gently.

Every flick of her tongue deepened his arousal until a storm gathered at the edge of his consciousness. With a pull upon her hair, he brought her mouth back to his cock.

He abandoned every attempt to be sensible. Careful. Instructive. She sucked greedily, and he gave himself to her with equal greed. His hips bucked into her mouth, driving his cock deeper into her throat. At her first cough, he gave her room again. But Elodie had tasted blood. It became a struggle for control, one he was in danger of losing.

He lost the moment he saw the gleam in her eyes. She gagged but refused to release him. The sounds were animalistic. His climax surged, his vision narrowing to that face, that mouth around his cock, those storm-dark eyes watching him, the thread of saliva upon her chin. Again and again, his length disappeared between her lips while her fist tightened around his shaft.

The storm broke over him. Lightning tore through his body. With a curse, he spilled into her throat. Every sensation vanished except the point where her mouth held him. His head fell back, her name a blasphemy on his lips.

He pulsed several more times, breathing through his release, moaning at every drop she sucked from him.

Breathless, he slowly returned to himself and loosened his fingers from her hair. He reached for the carriage door and thrust it open. Snow-covered cliffs swept past outside. The storm drove flakes into the carriage, and the sea roared above the pounding hooves.

“Spit,” he growled. There was only so much he would ask of her the first time.

But Elodie met his gaze coolly and swallowed.

Will watched her throat move and went rigid as she insolently held out her tongue.