Bewitching the Beast (Wright Bastards, #6) by Amy Sandas

Author:Amy Sandas
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: steamy historical romance, regency romance, victorian romance, broody hero, Wright Bastards
Publisher: Amy Sandas
Published: 2024-02-27T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Twenty

He burned.

He raged.

Like a damned inferno, his lust for her roared out of control through his body, his mind, his soul.

Consuming the sight of her with a stare that desperately needed to touch every inch of her, he toed off his boots as he released the front of his pants and shoved them down to the floor.

She lay in the center of his black velvet bedcovering, her pale skin nearly glowing in the moonlight, her black hair tousled and tangled about her head, and those spectacles...still shielding a gaze so steady and wide as she stared back at him. Dark and full of mysteries he feared were too carefully protected for him to ever understand.

Her lips parted, the glistening pink pillows instantly beckoning him, taunting him, begging him to take a taste. To swipe his tongue along their satin surface before thrusting inside.

But a kiss like that was far too intimate.

Once his mouth met hers...once she sighed her secrets into his mouth and he opened himself to her exploration, there would be no opportunity to take it back.

She would have all of him then. To do with what she would.

But she would not love him.

“Nicholas?”

Her questioning whisper brushed over him like a zephyr.

Her anticipation was a delicate tremor in the air. The scent of her desire, a faint perfume that caressed his skin. He could see her calm curiosity. Her patience and quiet acceptance.

Even in her state of sensual yearning, she peered at him with such an intent perception.

What did she see when she looked at him like that?

He couldn’t bring himself to ask her.

Naked, he returned to the bed, approaching her on his knees before lowering to his elbows between her spread thighs. Splaying his hands on her soft, silken thighs, he urged her to open wider.

Taking a moment, he gazed upon her, remembering how delicious her desire had tasted that night. Taking a deep breath, he inhaled the sweet musky scent of her and a growl of hunger rolled from his throat. He could not press his lips to hers, but he would bury his face between her thighs. He would lap up her slick moisture and suckle her pink flesh until she began to quiver under his tongue and pulse against his lips.

But first, he had to claim that glistening pearl that gently swelled beneath his intent gaze. Slipping his arms beneath her, he palmed her buttocks in his hands and lifted her. Covering her with his open mouth he slowly suckled her flesh. Her gasp of pleasure slid down his spine with tingling sparks. He responded with a long, soothing swipe of his tongue and another rich pull of his lips.

She arched and moaned, tilting her pelvis for more of the same.

He readily—desperately—gave it. With long soothing licks and deep suckling kisses. With nips of his teeth and darting thrusts that encouraged more and more of her whimpering sighs and sweet, slick moisture. Until it coated her sex like dew and smeared her thighs and dripped from his chin.

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