Addicted. Charlotte FeatherstoneЧитать онлайн книгу.
as his long fingers sought the ties of her corset. “Or tell me to cease these attentions before I cannot stop.”
What was she to say? She knew what she should say, but the word would not come forth. No had never felt so impossibly hard to say as it did now. She did not want to speak the word, for she knew that Lindsay would honor her refusal. Refusing him was something she didn’t want to do. She wanted this, despite the fact it was against everything she had been taught. She wanted his lovemaking, regardless of the fact she could find herself ruined in the eyes of society.
“Anais?”
“Don’t stop,” she said on a gasp. “Oh, Lindsay, please don’t stop.”
With masterful skill, he undid the bow on her corset, pulling on the strings before releasing her straining breasts into the cool air. She shuddered, feeling the sexual awakening flooding her hot blood like a glass of fine champagne.
Lowering his mouth to the valley of her breasts, he trailed his lips along her flesh, making her burn hotter. Raking her hands through Lindsay’s thick, curling hair, Anais clenched her fingers in the silky strands as his lips trailed openmouthed along her skin. Her breath froze as his mouth descended lower. Closing her eyes, she allowed her held breath to pass in a soft exhalation of yearning—a desire she knew was forbidden. No woman of her class would do such a thing without the benefit of marriage, and in a stable no less! Only common strumpets would allow a man such liberties where anyone may happen upon them. But the forbidden was the most succulent of fruits, especially when it was Lindsay offering the illicit taste.
She didn’t think, only felt as his mouth followed the descent of her gown. It was followed by the slow slide of his fingers hooking beneath the waist of her petticoats as he drew them over her generous hips till they lay in a lace heap around her feet.
Gasping, Anais pressed further against the cold stone when Lindsay dropped to his knees and began to nuzzle the damp flesh between her thighs. His hands cupped her breasts as his mouth moved eagerly—hungrily—over her wet sex as he lapped at her.
How was she to deny him? How was she to deny herself this sinful pleasure, especially when she had desired—no, loved— this man her entire life? It was neither fanciful thinking nor melodrama in the heat of sexual frenzy, but the truth. She had loved Lindsay for…well, forever. To be here with him now, in the stables of his estate, to feel his mouth caress her in forbidden places and exotic ways was beyond what she had ever dared hope for. And she had hoped and longed for this moment for so long…
Blood pounded fiercely in her ears as Lindsay’s hot mouth covered every inch of her flesh. She heard the rapid fire of her heart mixing with the erotic sounds of his tongue laving her. The way he pleasured her made her wish for him to devour her whole and she encouraged him on with her husky breaths and the way she instinctively gripped his hair.
“I knew you would be this responsive,” he said in a guttural voice as he sunk his finger deep inside her, coaxing more wetness from her. “My God, you’re beautiful,” he rasped, suddenly standing up and studying her naked body as she stood vulnerably before him.
“You know that isn’t true,” she said through trembling lips, even though she wished it was.
“It is.” His voice was forceful as he stroked his fingertip along her swollen nipple. “Haven’t you ever noticed how I can’t keep from watching you? Haven’t you ever wondered why I need to be near you? You’re an angel, Anais. You’re my angel. You’re perfect.”
Lindsay was looking at her like a man starved, like a man possessed by the power of lust. She knew that he had to finish what he had started. She could think on things later. When she was alone in her room she could try to understand why now, after years of friendship, he had decided to turn their relationship into something more.
The feel of his hands stroking her breasts chased her thoughts away. He swirled his thumb along her nipples until the buds were hard pebbles and her womb was clenching in longing. Over and over he teased her with his thumbs, plucking at her nipples until little tremors raced down her back.
“I want to feel you tremble like this when I’m buried deep inside you.” She met his gaze and he smiled slowly—sensually. “Let me make love to you.”
“Yes,” she hissed as he ran his tongue along her nipple before slipping it between his lips. “Yes. I want this—so much.”
Picking her up as if she were light as a feather, he carried her to the corner of the stable where bales of hay were stacked. He lowered her to stand beside him. Pulling his shirt from his shoulders he placed it atop their makeshift bed. Picking her up again, he placed her on the linen, which was damp from his sweat.
They had ridden hard on their ride through the woods. Even now she could see the rivulets of perspiration trickling down his chest as the silver moonlight filtered through the window and reflected on his chest. She loved the masculine texture of his damp shirt beneath her and the scent of him—male and musky—surrounding her. She didn’t care that she was going to be tumbled on a bale of hay in a stable for her first time. She didn’t care, because this was Lindsay, this was his world—the world they had always shared together.
Sitting back and resting on his heels, he studied her, all the time running his hands along her body. “So soft, so beautiful and pale,” he said, sounding awed. “I want to remember you like this, stretched out, waiting for me to take you for the first time.”
Her thighs trembled. She shoved aside the awkwardness. Now was not the time to be gauche. Now was the time to indulge her deepest, most private fantasy—making love with Lindsay.
He ran his hand over her nipples, then down her ribs till he reached her hip. He caressed and kneaded, watching her response, listening to her sounds of pleasure before he ran his fingertips along the inside of her thighs, eliciting a flush of gooseflesh along her skin. He played there for a while, touching her, heightening the anticipation until she was clutching at his shoulders and urging him down. She had liked his mouth between her thighs, and greedy as she was, she wanted it there again.
He knew what she desired, and with a wicked smile that made her toes curl, he lowered his head and set his mouth against her sex. She arched at the intimacy, brushing her damp flesh against his cheek and lips. She heard his groan, a sound of approval and delight before he raked his tongue against her.
She cried out his name as she felt his tongue part her folds and she covered her mouth with the back of her hand, silencing her wanton pleas. He only teased her more by flicking his tongue slowly up the length of her before circling the sensitive bud of flesh. She tensed and looked down, only to see him looking up at her as he slowly raked his tongue around the hood of her sex. That sinful visual was enough to stop her heart.
“I’ve always wondered how you would taste coming in my mouth. Now I know.”
Wicked, wicked man! But the words would not come, only the uncontrollable shaking of her body beneath him as she climaxed into his mouth. When she could utter a sound, it was in hushed, stuttering breaths, pleading with him to stop. He would not listen. He pushed her on. His tongue hungrily, forcefully licked her until she clutched at his head and raised herself on her elbows. She watched as he tormented her with his tongue.
Her hips moved in time to his probing tongue. She heard him growl, watched as his gaze lowered to her breasts, which were swaying with her efforts as she climbed the hill to orgasm once again.
Lindsay continued to study her breasts as she cupped one in her hand, stroking her nipple with her thumb, just as she did at night, hidden beneath her bedsheets, pretending that it was Lindsay doing all those wicked things to her body and not her own hands.
“Little minx, you’ve done this before, haven’t you?”
She smiled a slow half smile and continued to palm her breasts, teasing him, delighting in his husky growl when she rolled her nipple between her thumb and finger. “It was you that I dreamed of when I brought myself to orgasm, Lindsay. But it never felt like this. This intoxicating.”
Sitting