J.R. Ward the Black Dagger Brotherhood Novels 1-4 - J. R. Ward [602]
“I’m not saying no. It’s just…oh, God…what if I’m unattractive there?”
Jesus, he could not comprehend why she’d ever worry about that. “Not possible. I already know you how perfect you are. I’ve felt you, remember?”
She took a deep breath.
“Marissa, I loved the feel of you. I really did. And I have a beautiful picture of you in my mind. I just want to know the reality.”
After a moment, she nodded. “All right…go ahead.”
Keeping their gazes locked, he swept his hand between her thighs and then…oh, yeah, that soft, secret place of hers. So slick and hot he swayed and dropped his mouth to her ear.
“You’re so beautiful here.” Her hips surged as he stroked her, his fingers light and slippery from her honey. “Mmm, yeah…I want to be inside of you. I want to put my”—the word cock was definitely too coarse, but that’s what he was thinking—“myself in you, baby. Right here. I want to be surrounded by all this, held in you tight. So you believe me when I say you’re beautiful? Marissa? Tell me what I want to hear.”
“Yes…” As he rubbed a little deeper, she shivered. “God…yes.”
“You want me to come inside of you someday?”
“Yes…”
“You want me to fill you up?”
“Yes…”
“Good, because that’s what I want.” He nipped at her earlobe. “I want to lose it deep in you and have you fist me as you come, too. Mmm…rub yourself against my hand, let me feel you move for me. Oh, shit…that’s nice. That’s…work your core for me…oh, yeah…”
Shit, he had to stop talking. Because if she took direction any better he was going to explode.
Oh, screw it. “Marissa, spread your legs farther apart for me. Spread them wide. And don’t stop what you’re doing.”
As she complied, he slowly, discreetly, shifted back and looked down her body. On the other side of yards of twisted, teal blue satin, her creamy thighs were split open, his hand disappearing between them, her hips rolling in a rhythm that made his cock pop in his pants.
Latching on to the closest breast, he gently smoothed one of her legs even wider. Then he moved all that skirting to the side, lifted his head and removed his hand. Down the flat plane of her stomach, past the dimple of her belly button, over the perfectly pale skin of her pelvic cradle, he saw the graceful little slit of her sex.
His whole body trembled. “So perfect,” he whispered. “So…exquisite.”
Enthralled, he moved down the bed and filled himself with the sight of her. Pink, glistening, delicate. And he was catching a contact high from her scent, his brain shorting out in a flickering series of sparks. “Oh…Jesus…”
“What’s wrong?” Her knees snapped together.
“Not a thing.” He pressed his lips to the top of her thigh and stroked her legs, trying to part them gently. “Never seen anything so beautiful.”
Hell, beautiful didn’t even cut it and he licked his mouth, his tongue desperate for so much more of that action. In an absent voice, he said, “God, baby, I want to go down on you so badly right now.”
“Go down?”
He flushed at her confusion. “I…ah, I want to kiss you.”
She smiled and sat up, taking his face between her hands. But when she tried to draw him to her, he shook his head.
“Not on your mouth this time.” As she frowned, he eased his hand back between her thighs. “Here.”
Her eyes flared so wide he wanted to curse. Way to make her feel relaxed, O’Neal.
“Why…” She cleared her throat. “Why would you want to do that?”
Good Lord, hadn’t she ever heard of…well, of course not. Aristocrats probably had very polite, very missionary sex, and if they even knew about the oral stuff, they certainly would never tell their daughters about it. No wonder she was shocked.
“Why, Butch?”
“Ah…because if I do it right, you’ll really enjoy it. And…yeah, so will I.”
He glanced down her body. Oh, God, would he enjoy it. Going down on a woman had never been something he’d had to do before. With her? He needed it. He craved it. When he thought about making love to her with his mouth, every square inch of