Izzy, Izzy. My own.
His cock throbbed vainly in his breeches. As he licked her, he freed it with one hand and began to stroke. Shameless, lewd. Bringing himself off right there on the floor while he pleasured her? But this was what she did to him. She reduced him to a panting, needing beast with no care for civility or etiquette. And she liked him crude and profane. She’d told him so.
On the bed, she writhed and wriggled. “Ransom. Ransom, are you certain this is—”
He raised his head just long enough to say: “Yes.”
He worked his way over and around all her most sensitive places, taking time to accommodate and make adjustments.
She gasped his name and clutched at his hair, holding him fast to her core. God, he loved it when she touched his hair.
He increased his efforts, licking all along her folds, then sweeping back to the swollen bud at the crest of her sex and suckling hard, flicking his tongue back and forth.
She shuddered and moaned, arching off the bed and spasming under his tongue.
Yes. Yes.
Come for me. Me, and no other.
As her climax broke, he slid his tongue inside her, needing to be in her, in some way. To possess her. Her intimate muscles convulsed, pulling at him. Begging for more.
He hurried to rejoin her on the bed, fitting himself in the cradle of her splayed thighs. His cock brushed against the soft, dewy heat of her sex. He could be inside her in seconds.
But once he was inside her, there would be no taking it back.
He pressed his head to her shoulder and released a heavy sigh.
“Ransom?” She pushed up on one elbow. “What is it? Is something wrong?”
“I don’t know,” he said. “That’s for you to decide.”
Izzy stared at him, her vision hazy in the aftermath of that beautiful, beautiful pleasure. Surely he wasn’t changing his mind now. The broad, smooth head of his erection lay against her thigh—hard and hot and eager.
He said, “I’m just drunk enough to think this is my most brilliant idea in ages. But I’m not too drunk to stop if you don’t feel the same.”
She was sober, and she knew very well that this might not be the most prudent idea. But something felt right about it, all the same. This wasn’t impersonal lust. They understood each other. She was likely halfway in love with him, and he cared for her, too. He might never say it in those words, but this very room was ablaze with the proof.
Besides, a girl like Izzy didn’t have the luxury of being choosy with her nights of wild passion.
This happened tonight, or never.
“I don’t want to stop,” she said.
“Thank God.” He sounded relieved as he pulled at her buttons and laces. His fingers moved more easily now. “For a moment there, I thought the attempt at decency would come back and bite me. It usually does.”
“Decency?” She slipped one arm free of its sleeve. “I should be terribly disappointed if you were decent. I’m expecting you to be wicked indeed.”
He freed her breast and bent to suckle it. “I’ll do my damnedest. It’s been a while.”
However long it had been, he hadn’t forgotten how to make a woman twist and writhe.
He pressed a finger inside her. Then he added another finger to the first, stretching her with an exquisite fullness.
“Ransom . . . hurry. Don’t you want—”
He pressed the heel of his hand against her mound, rubbing her in just the right place as he stroked his fingers in and out. Deeper, and deeper still. Before long, she was arching off the bed to meet his thrusts.
He bent to suck her nipple, and she moaned at the decadent heat of his mouth.
“Yes,” he murmured, sounding triumphant. He swirled his tongue in ruthless circles, and the sweet tension began to build between her thighs again.