Page 17 of Only Pleasure Will Do

Chapter 7

The unexpected touch of his lips sent a firestorm of heat coursing through Amorina, as if his mouth were a torch set to a line of black powder that sizzled directly to her core. It had been such a long time since any man had touched her so strongly, so deeply. The shock that such feelings still existed within her almost made her pull back from him. Almost. At some basic level, though, she understood that if she did so, Sir Reginald would believe it a rejection of him, and she’d lose any chance of even a fleeting moment of passion in his arms. Instead, she slipped her arms around his neck, pressing her body more securely against his, her fears of Tommy Redmond’s revenge washed away by the wave of desire that engulfed her.

In response, he groaned and deepened the kiss, sliding his tongue smoothly into her mouth, a sensation she’d enjoyed only once before, with the marquess. Thoughts of Duncan and their time together flooded her memory, but she banished them firmly. That past could not be reclaimed, even if she’d wished such a thing. Standing here, in Sir Reginald’s embrace, she wanted her only thoughts to be of him and the pleasure they could share. Now it was her turn to show him what was on her mind.

Boldly, she seized his questing tongue and sucked it, softly at first then harder until he moaned loudly. Inwardly smiling, she turned playful, almost letting him go then drawing him back with a pull of her tongue.

He rewarded her efforts with a deep moan as he slid his hands down her backside to cup and squeeze her buttocks, sending fresh flames to her center. His movement urged her even more firmly against his groin, the unmistakable ridge of his erection pressing full against her mons. Gasping at the glorious contact, she released his mouth, panting with the need for him to claim her. “Now, please, take me now.”

In one smooth movement, he hefted her up onto his torso. Her legs went round him of their own accord. Had he not still been wearing his breeches, she likely would’ve slid straight onto his fully erect shaft. As it was, he pulsed against her flesh, taunting her. She lifted her face to stare into his heated gaze and licked her lips.

That movement broke the spell. With urgent steps, he strode into the other room, to the waiting bed. He let her slide down the length of him until she stood on her own two feet then his hands dropped to his fall, unbuttoning it so quickly he ripped off one of the silver buttons. It shot away and landed against the brick wall with a faint ping.

Amorina crawled onto the bed, and sat up on her knees, never taking her gaze from the magnificent male form being unveiled before her.

He pulled off his shoes then stripped the breeches from his hips.

She held her breath as he kicked them away, expecting—wanting so badly— to see the proudly jutting cock. Instead his shirt tail fell down, neatly covering the object of her desire. Still, what she could see of him made her swallow hard.

The plain linen shirt draped fluidly over his broad chest, straining just a bit at the shoulders where the muscles rippled when he turned toward her. Lower, the shirt tented slightly, his arousal plainly evident, thrilling her to no end. She’d wanted this man for a year, had given up all hope of this moment ever arriving, yet now here he was, his desire for her as obvious as hers must surely be for him.

Clasping his hand in hers, she drew him onto the bed until he knelt in front of her, his handsome face directly before her. Golden hair straggling a bit from its black ribbon gave him a more wanton air, as if the wind had had its way with him. The clear, intelligent gray eyes bored into her as if to search her soul. If so, all he would find was her frenzied need for him. Her gaze then lingered on his full, sensual mouth, wanting to feel it on her once again.

With one practiced motion, she drew her chemise up and over her head and let it drop from her fingertips. Naked, she slowly lay back on the bed, one arm behind her head, thrusting her breasts upward in invitation.

Reginald’s eyes turned deepest black as he dragged in a shuddering breath. He grabbed the back of his shirt and pulled it over his head, his movement as fluid as her own had been. Bracing himself over her on thickly muscled arms, he quickly straddled her then dipped his head to lick one nipple, bringing it immediately to a granite hard point.

An electrifying heat shot straight to her core, coaxing a guttural moan from her throat. Her hips rose of their own accord, seeking his member that now tantalizingly brushed her mons.

His golden head, all she could see of him from this vantage point, moved to the other breast, laving that nipple as well. Her toes curled, and she arched her back, the exquisite sensation of his tongue on her flesh causing havoc throughout her body. Unable to resist, she slid her hand over his shoulder, the smooth skin hot to the touch. Gently, she stroked his back, the muscles hard and well-defined, as all his muscles were. She grasped the back of his head and tugged it upward until his face hovered above hers. Raising her mouth slightly, she claimed his lips once more, brushing a kiss over them.

His reply was to consume her, ravishing her mouth with a thoroughness that left her dizzy. Time and again his tongue stroked into her, making her long for all of him. She reached for him, but his own hand was there before her, grasping his shaft and guiding it to her opening. A single frantic thrust seated him all the way inside her, impaling her on his thick, hot member.

Groans of pleasure escaped them both, and she lifted her gaze to his face, now tinged with the blush of arousal. She cupped his face and raised her hips, encouraging him to continue. Slowly at first, then with increasing speed, he thrust and withdrew, filling her depths again and again. Their panting grew more ragged, and Amorina wrapped her legs around his body, clinging to him as he plunged into her at a frenzied pace. Deep within her, a coiling sensation began, winding her tighter and tighter. She tried to hold it off, wanting to make sure he achieved his ultimate pleasure first, but his vigorous thrusts undid her control and she could do nothing but clutch his body to her as she shattered, unable to stop writhing and moaning as her inner flesh gripped him tightly, pulling him even deeper inside her.

Before she could catch her breath, Reginald gave a sharp cry, breaking off his frantic pounding to strain forward, his hot seed pouring into her. He remained poised above her, panting, searching her face, but for what she didn’t know. With a deep breath, he rolled off her, lying as best he could beside her in the narrow cot. Avoiding her gaze.

Unfortunate that the bed was so small. The aftermath of carnal embrace was often embarrassing for the gentlemen who patronized her establishment. They were eager enough when taking their gratification, but not nearly as sanguine once they’d spent themselves and often times regretted the expense. At such times, all her girls agreed that a double bed gave their customers a bit of privacy in which to recover and slink away if they’d suddenly thought better of the encounter. Until the next time.

She’d hoped Sir Reginald would be…different. Would not shrink away from her, as he was now subtly trying to do. With a sigh, she eased toward the edge of the cot, although there was precious little room to give him if she didn’t want to land in the dirt.

“Are you…”

Amorina jerked her head toward him. Too close for her own comfort. Pressed right against her naked side, he had nowhere else to go. Still, she wished him away if he didn’t want to be here with her. “Am I what, Sir Reginald?”

“Are you well?” The touch of concern—most likely false—in his voice almost sickened her.

“Perfectly.” She turned her head so that she stared up at the exposed beams of the ceiling above her.

She wanted his questions to cease. He obviously didn’t wish to be here next to her. His furtive glances, the avoidance of her gaze spoke of his regret for what they’d done. The expectation that Sir Reginald would actually return a small portion of the regard she felt for him made her worse than a fool. Such dreams were beyond the moon.

“I feared I’d hurt you.”

That snapped her head back toward him. But no, there were no telltale signs of insincerity in either his voice or face. Rather, his thick brows had dipped into a slight frown as he peered directly at her, meeting her gaze now without any shame in his eyes. Had she been too quick to judge his reactions? “No, you didn’t hurt me. Why would you think that?”

Red tinged his cheeks. “I was quite overcome with…with the excitement of the moment. I’m afraid I thought only of myself…my needs. And in doing so, I lost sight of you. For that, I do beg your pardon.” That confession seemed to release him from some inner turmoil, for he relaxed into the mattress and slid closer to her. “I should not have been so rough with you.”

The apology startled a laugh out of her, which she quelled immediately. No man liked being laughed at in bed. “I would not call your efforts rough, Sir Reginald. Vigorous, perhaps, but there is nothing at all wrong with vigor. Some women have been known to enjoy that.” God knew she did. Especially from this man.