Page 92 of The Lyon's Pretty Pugilist

“Are you disappointed?” she asked.

He stared at her as if she’d said the grass was purple. “’Tis the greatest gift I’ve ever received.” He closed the lid, placed the box on a side table, and pulled her into his arms. “I do not know how it is possible, but I love you more every day.”

She traced her fingertip over his perfect lips. “I love you, too, Nicolas. Now, may we get naked?”

Chapter Thirty-Six

Somehow, Nicolas hadbecome the luckiest man in London. Not only had his friends and wife managed to save his family from complete ruin, but his newspaper column gave him a purpose. He’d also married for love, a blessing which he did not take lightly.

His wife was beautiful, passionate, determined, and spirited. By God, the woman was even thoughtful. She’d actually tracked down and purchased his timepiece. She’d presented the heirloom to him right before she lifted her nightdress over her head. Awestruck, he added round breasts, firm thighs, shapely hips, rosy nipples, and a delicious quim to her list of attributes. After giving him the sweetest present he’d ever received, she’d hurriedly undressed him, stepped back, and raked her gaze over him. Thereupon, she licked her lips as if he were a delicious sweetmeat. As if this wasn’t good fortune enough, she’d radiated sensuality as she shoved him backward until he sat on the edge of the bed.

Here he was, his bare cock pointing indecently at his naked wife as an impish grin spread across her face. She dropped onto her knees and rested her hands on his thighs, her reverent position sparking his uninhibited, animalistic need.

“You know how you make my body do wonderful things when you place your mouth on my cunny?” she asked.

He managed a guttural noise that sounded nothing like theyeshe’d intended to say.

“I would like to do the same thing for you,” she said.

Hell, yes!His shaft twitched uncontrollably.

Staring at his cock, she swallowed. “I am not sure I know how to make you feel good with my mouth.”

It had been a couple of years since he’d lain with Celeste Milton, and Lydia would have fainted at even the thought of such a thing. Not that he wanted to think about either of those ladies right now. Josie was the lone woman who consumed his thoughts.

He tenderly ran his finger over her cheek and along her jaw. “I believe there is no wrong way to do it,” he said, his voice so raspy it was almost unrecognizable. “Just do whatever you desire, and I am sure it will feel heavenly to me.”

Leaning forward, she kissed her way up his thighs. He gathered her hair in his hands and pulled the long strands to the side so that he could watch as she peppered taunting kisses around his shaft. His body throbbing with need, he fought his desire to force her mouth where he wanted it.

The tip of her tongue darted out, and she licked away the pearly drop glistening on his head. “Mmm,” she murmured. “It tastes quite salty.”

Filled with an aggressive hunger, his grip tightened, and he gently tugged on her hair as she mewled passionate utterances. Moving slowly, she swirled her tongue around his head before taking him into her mouth. It was as if a delicately textured blanket welcomed him, ensconcing him in warm, wet heat; her enthusiasm more than making up for her inexperience.

Since she enjoyed his filthy utterances when they tupped, surely, she would feel the same way kneeling in front of him. “You likesucking my cock, don’t you, Josephine?” he asked.

With her lips still wrapped around his shaft, her head bobbed as her unrelenting tongue licked, explored, and flicked. Bloody hell, not only was his wife sucking him, but she also took pleasure in it. If he slid his fingers into her folds, would he find her drenched and ready?

“Are you wet for me, darling?”

Her whimper tickled his cock.

“Use your hands, too,” he demanded gruffly, which he reminded himself was not ungentlemanly in these circumstances. Firstly, he needed her to touch him, and secondly, she enjoyed his authoritative voice during bed sport.

Her hands immediately became an extension of her mouth, working up and down his length as her tongue attended to his head.

A tingling took hold in his bollocks and shot up his spine. Unable to hold himself upright, he fell back onto his elbows. Never breaking contact, Josie palmed and sucked him, her cheeks hollowing around him as she climbed on top of his thighs and pelvis.

Lowering to his back, he gave in to the sensation. He couldn’t hold back. He was going to come any second.

He was at the precipice about to leap when Josie pulled away. Disappointed, he opened his eyes.

She peered down at him, her lips wet and her eyes glazed over as if she was intoxicated. “I’m sorry,” she said. “I want you inside of me. Please.”

There was no need for her to ever feel sorry for wanting him. In fact, there was nothing that made him happier. Pulling her to him, he infused his kisses with his overwhelming love. She gave it back one hundredfold.

Dragging her up the bed, he flipped her onto her back. She squealed with delight and then stared at him with adoration in her eyes. Sitting up, he impatiently fiddled in his nightstand, searching for his damnable sheath. Josie rubbed his back, her caresses making himmove faster.

Finally, he found the sheepskin. His clumsy fingers shook with need as he slid the tube over his pulsating cock. Meanwhile, Josie caressed and kissed his shoulder. Once he was sheathed, Josie stretched out beside him, her thighs parting in a silent invitation.