Lady Mistaken (Le Débauché Club) Page 4

  When she groaned with pleasure, Simon couldn’t take anymore. He pulled his finger from her, stroked his cock once more and then pressed his bulging tip inside her anal opening.

  Dear God, she was so wonderfully tight. It took all he had not to trust himself fully inside her, but she wasn’t quite ready for that. Not yet. The hand massaging her ass slid lower until he reached her dripping pussy. Simon teased her clit, flicking his finger against her and then pressing into her slickness until she was writhing beneath him.

  “Oh, Simon!” she called out as a pool of her passion filled his hand.

  He smiled in victory. She was most definitely ready now.

  Simon pushed further into her anal channel until his hipbone met her ass and he was seated fully inside her. Dear God, she closed around him like a vice and he thought he might spill himself inside her like a green lad during his first fuck. But he’d waited too long to be done with her so soon, so he gritted his teeth and pulled slightly from her.

  He thrust inside her, retreating once more. Then he thrust again and again, over and over as though he was wild. Grace called out beneath him in ecstasy, her ragged breaths matching his own.

  Simon grasped her hips with his hands, holding her steady as he pounded inside her time and again.

  “Simon!” she breathed out at the very moment he cried, “Grace!” and exploded inside her, coating the walls of her channel in his seed.

  Sated and exhausted, he dropped onto the quilts beside her and tugged Grace into his arms, her back against his front like it had been when he’d made love to her.

  * * *

  Grace could barely catch her breath, but she pressed herself against Simon’s chest. Good gracious! She’d never be the same again. Not after everything he’d done to her, everything he’d touched, tasted, kissed…But she had no regrets. Well, she did have one, if she was being honest.

  He’d preserved her virginity. He hadn’t said the words aloud, but she knew he was allowing her to maintain her innocence, though what a laugh that was, so that another man would find her pure. But right now, in the dim light of the wine cellar, wrapped in Lord Simon Berridge’s arms, Grace didn’t want another man. Not now, not ever. How could anything ever be more wonderful than what she’d experienced at his hands and mouth and his manhood?

  “Grace?” he whispered near her ear.

  “Yes?”

  His hand grasped her belly at bit possessively. “You might see things a bit differently in the light of day…”

  “What things?”

  “Everything we did tonight.” He kissed the side of her neck, sending a fresh wave of tingles racing across her skin. “I want to see you…again. I want to see a lot of you, actually.”

  She spun in his arms to see him better, to see his devastatingly handsome face. “What are you saying, Simon? You wish to court me?”

  His silvery eyes darkened with the desire that seemed so much a part of him. “Unless you think being courted by a man like me will ruin you.”

  Gracious. She was already ruined, in so many ways after this night with him. As it was, her thoughts were all a jumble.

  “If I promise to bring biscuits and help you go through Garwood’s ledger? I do have a mathematical mind.”

  Was he serious? Did he really want to court her? And if so, “To what end, Simon?”

  A sheepish grin, one that looked so foreign on him, flashed across his handsome face. “You’re the first nice girl I think I’ve ever met, Grace.”

  Was she nice? She’d certainly lifted her skirts for him.

  “And, well, I don’t think I can let you get away from me. Not if you like me a little.”

  Despite herself, she liked him a lot. More than she should, most definitely. But she did like him. That was most certain. “You’ll bring the biscuits?” She grinned.

  “I’ll bring you anything you’ll ever want.”

  And then he kissed her once more, and Grace never wanted it to end.

  Lord Longfield’s Le Débauché Masquerade continues in …