.

around her areola, making it pucker. His lips parted and her blushing nipple disappeared into his mouth. His cheeks hollowed and she cried out as the pleasure seared her.

      He stopped suckling and she whimpered.

      Hoarse, raw, his voice washed over her. “But it is the sound of your sighs and moans of pleasure that are the most beautiful to me, Grace.”

      The look in Devlin’s narrowed eyes stunned her. It wasn’t lust. It was more than that. He looked awed, as though she was truly beautiful. As though she was lovelier than he expected, or he was more struck by it than he’d planned. And, strangely, she liked that.

      After all, he was more beautiful than she had expected, and she was far more struck by it than she’d planned.

      His mouth claimed her nipple once more, but with such maddening gentleness she thrust her breasts forward and clutched his silken hair. Chuckling against her skin, he obliged her by sucking harder while stripping down his pants.

      Nothing came between his hot skin and his trousers.

      Daringly, she touched the ridge of his naked hip. Marveling. Of course, the lean line of his hip was hard, the indent above velvety soft, and his stomach…it was an entrancing lacing of pure muscle.

      He scooped her up. Not as a gentleman would lift a lady to carry her if she had sprained her ankle. No, he grasped her bottom and drew her up, forcing her to hook her legs around his waist.

      “Mr. Sharpe!” Her soaked and sticky quim pressed against the broad head of his hard cock trapped between them.

      “Devlin. I would like to hear you call me Devlin, sweetheart.” Surprisingly agile with his trousers around his knees, he made his way to the edge of the bed, then fell. She shut her eyes, certain she’d be squashed, but he caught his weight on his powerful arms, laughing.

      Pushing up, he straightened and yanked off his boots, but his hot gaze never left her. She lay with one arm over her nipples, one hand covering her blond nether curls, clinging to modesty. Immodestly, she stared at his cock. Now that he wasn’t pressed against her, she could see it—curiosity made her look, carnal appreciation kept her staring.

      Her father’s paintings had mocked male members—exaggerated them. Some were long and thin and scarlet tipped. Others short and thick and oddly purple.

      Mr.—Devlin’s—cock captured her with its audacious size and pure beauty. Jutting out, his thick cock curved upward toward his navel. She doubted she could encircle it with her hand. Dark gold hair surrounded it and a pair of large ballocks dangled below.

      What would it feel like inside her? Would it be too large? Would it hurt? Just staring was making her honey flow and her hand was no longer merely covering her privates. To her shock, she realized she was stroking her creamy lips. In front of him.

      His knee pressed into the bed. Glinting honey-gold in the firelight, his hair fell around his face. “I want you on top, Grace. You can—”

      “No!”

      Frowning at her desperate shout, he paused. She hurried on. “I want you on top. That is the way I want it…please?” She spread her legs in welcome and held out her hands, revealing herself to him in the most intimate and vulnerable way.

      A bewitching smile curved his lips and he lifted her hand and pressed a kiss to her fingertips. “Anything to please my lady.”

      He left her and took something from a pocket of his trousers. Grace stared as he rolled a covering over his cock, mesmerized by the casual way he touched himself. She knew of such things from her father’s pictures—a sheath, to prevent a pregnancy.

      Don’t think.

      Then the gentleman vanished with a blink of her eye and a rogue took his place. The broad shoulders moved over her, his lean hips nudged between her thighs, and his strong legs spread hers wider. Bravely, she touched him, skimming her hands over his smooth shoulders, letting her fingertips graze down to the crinkly hair on his chest.

      She wanted to relish every inch of him. This was to be the memory she would treasure and she would make it perfect.

      Sharing a smile with Devlin, astonished by how natural it felt to touch him, to delight in it, Grace reached down. Eager to touch his cock, to explore him, to pleasure him…

      “Oh God, Grace,” Devlin groaned as Grace’s long, slim fingers curled around his aching shaft. Her fingers gripped tight, then slid up and down. They traced the veins that pushed against the skin and made a mind-melting journey up to the straining head.

      Miss Grace Hamilton was exploring, and he could barely hold on to his control. He ground his back teeth, fighting the urge to ease her hand away and slide inside her. Deliberately, her hand closed around him and began to jerk him with rhythmic motions.

      He stopped her, clasping his hand around her small wrist. “I want to make love to you. To be inside you. Do you want that?”

      Before she answered, he guided his cock to her wet, steamy lips, stirring her bubbling honey. He slicked his cock along her clit and she gasped, “Oh yes!” Then she gave a desperate moan that made his cock jerk and his balls contract.

      He lifted her leg, touching satin-soft skin, aware she wore her stockings and garters. The gossamer white silk against her ivory skin was erotic, but need hit him so hard he wanted to rip the pretty fabric with his teeth.

      He’d never tumbled with a woman who wasn’t experienced, boisterous, and willing to give as good as she got. He still bore scars from fierce fingernails and tearing teeth and he liked a woman hammering her heels into his arse.

      Tensing, he tightened his grip on his cock. Control, man. She’s precious and you have to make this good.

      Miss Grace Hamilton moaned as he slowly thrust into her, his buttocks tight, his legs and arms stiff with the force of restraint. Beneath him, she wrapped her free leg around his hips, snaked her arms around his neck, and rose to him with a fevered cry of pleasure.

      God.

      Her hips worked, rising and falling to slick her snug cunny along his shaft. Artless, eager, exquisitely beautiful—she was a treasure a man like him did not deserve. Bracketing his arm around her head, he captured her lips as he slowly thrust in and drew out. A soft whimper spilled into his mouth as he sank into her to the hilt. She surprised him by kissing him hungrily, dueling her tongue with his.

      “Harder,” she whispered against his mouth. “I like this, but I want you deeper. Harder.”

      His control shattered. Arching forward, he plunged into her, plundering her mouth and pinching her nipple, rolling it to give her pleasure. He surged in and out, riding high. The slap of his chest against her breasts drove him mad. The slick heat of her pussy milking his cock had him on the brink of explosion.

      Her fingernails sank into his shoulders.

      Make her come. Make her. Do it for her.

      Shifting his angle, he worked until she cried out in shock against his mouth. He slipped his hand beneath her, and found her snug anus with his fingertips. Stroking her sensitive place inside her pussy, teasing her nipple, tickling her rump, he hung on until he took Grace to the brink.

      “What—?” Her eyes opened wide, searching his, both alight and confused.

      Captured by their sparkling green depths, he murmured, “You’re going to come. I’m going to make you come.”

      “It feels like heaven. Like whipped cream and sugar and better than any sin I’ve ever indulged in.” She moaned and her moan was both sweet and fierce.

      He’d never felt so connected with a woman while making love. Staring at her beautiful flushed face, he kept pumping, teasing, stroking—

      “Oh! Oh God!” Her head lolled back; then her body arched beneath him. Her cunny clutched his cock, hugged it, pulsed around it.

      Like a battering wave, his orgasm rose, flooding