The Bride Goes Rogue (The Fifth Avenue Rebels #3)(15)



He kissed behind her ear. “Your pussy is hot and soaking. Is it all for me?”

Sweet mercy. Did he expect an answer? Because she was incapable of speech at the moment. Not only from his crude words but the intimate caresses between her legs. It was delicious, but not quite where she ached the most, the place she touched to bring herself relief.

The wicked man teased and stroked, the wetness from her core easing the glide across her skin. She sank her fingers into his muscles, urging him, as her hips began to rock, seeking. Finally—finally—he brushed her clitoris with the pad of his finger. The simple touch sent waves of pleasure through her, heat singing along every tendon and nerve, leaving a trail of bliss like she’d died and gone to heaven.

Why hadn’t anyone told her it would feel so extraordinary?

“Ah, you like that, don’t you?” he whispered. “You’re so slick and soft, absolute perfection. Relax and let me make you feel good, beautiful.”

He kissed her again, surrounding her and overwhelming her senses, and her body grew lax against him. She was floating, spinning, her mind dizzy, as the pressure built. He focused his attention in that one spot where all her nerves seemed to be centered, and as her muscles tightened, she pulled him closer, tensing in anticipation. It wouldn’t be long, the final crest so very close . . .

His hand stilled. “Would you like more?” he asked, his voice like smoke, curling inside her, filling her.

“Yes.”

“Then how do you ask me, reinette?”

What did he want? “Please.”

“Please, who?”

She shook her head. This was too much thinking when all she wanted was for him to continue, to give her the orgasm hovering just out of reach.

He stroked her clitoris once and her eyes nearly rolled back in her head. “I want to hear you beg properly. Then I might let you come.”

It fell out of her mouth without thinking. “Please, my king. Give me more.”

One long finger pushed into her channel. “Christ, you are tight. Has it been a while, sweetheart?”

She nodded. Better to lie than have him find out she was an innocent.

“I will take good care of you, then.” He withdrew a fraction, then pressed forward once more. The friction was unbelievable, the fullness a revelation. It was like he was inside and outside and all around her. Everywhere at once.

She threw her head back, eyes screwed shut, and let out a long moan. It was too much, especially when he used his thumb on her bud again, and the peak quickly found her, her limbs shuddering as her muscles contracted. White heat consumed her, the rush of it dragging her into the heavens.

When she finally regained her senses, he was already placing her on the sofa and shifting to his knees. He shoved her skirts to her waist and wedged between her thighs. Wait, was this . . . was he . . . ? Right here? Katherine tensed and automatically tried to move away.

He clasped her thigh, holding her still, his dark eyes glittering in the gaslight behind his mask. “May I taste you?”

Taste her? Did he mean kiss her? If so, then why move to the floor? Perhaps he meant the skin of her legs.

You are supposed to be a woman of experience.

Nodding, she forced herself to sink into the cushions. “I’d like that.”

“You definitely will, if your reaction to my fingers is any indication.”

Arrogant man. Though she had to admit, his fingers were talented. His touch felt even better than when she touched herself down there—

He folded in half, his tall frame bent at an awkward angle, and pressed his face to her center. What was he doing? He planned to kiss her . . . there? Good Lord. Was this something people—?

His tongue swiped across her most intimate flesh and her brain shut down. Took a holiday. Went on strike. Every bit of her intelligence disappeared when he began licking slowly, as if savoring her taste. She heard him growl, the sound soaking into her skin. “God, it’s even better than I imagined,” he said.

Clutching the sofa, she tried not to shout as pleasure rocketed through her. His tongue was thorough, his lips adding suction, and soon she was a quivering mess, on the brink of losing her mind. When he sucked her clitoris into his mouth, applying the best kind of pressure, she rapidly exploded into a million pieces of light, her limbs shaking like leaves in the wind.

Boneless, she sagged into the cushions and struggled to catch her breath. He rose and adjusted his mask, which had slipped slightly during his ministrations. His eyes were wild as he studied her sprawled form. “You are so beautiful and delicious. Licking your cunt got my cock so hard.”

She shivered at his naughty words. Had he truly enjoyed it that much? Had he enjoyed her that much? The ridge in his trousers bulged obscenely, so clearly, yes, he had. So, should she reciprocate in some kind?

And how would you do that? You haven’t the first clue on what to do.

Damn her lack of education on bedroom activities. Her naiveté was going to ruin this. Why hadn’t she asked Nellie more questions as they were getting ready tonight?

He blew out a long breath and then reached for a coupe, downing a mouthful of champagne. Was he miserable, then?

The old Katherine would’ve waited patiently, let the moment pass without doing anything. But she wasn’t the old Katherine anymore. She was someone new, someone daring. Someone who was taking charge of her life.

Then take charge already.

Joanna Shupe's Books