Page 14 of The Devil’s Submission

In record time, Grayson brought over two full glasses of champagne, but as he returned, his toes caught in the braid of the rug and he stumbled, sending an arc of golden, fizzing liquid across her breasts and belly. “Shit. I’m sorry, Eliza, I’ll get a cloth—”

“No,” she said softly. “I think your tongue would do a better job.”

Wordlessly, his hot gaze dancing over her naked, champagne-soaked body, Grayson sank to his knees next to the chaise. He started with her collarbone, collecting the drips before licking down the outer curves of her breasts. His mouth was warm and wet, his tongue a smooth delight on her skin, and yet every so often his teeth grazed her, making her whimper.

Her nipples hardened painfully, begging to be sucked without delay, but he took his time circling the areola with the tips of his fingers. She let him, knowing in a flurry of anticipation that he wouldn’t stop this time, not even if they had an audience of thousands. Knowing he prepared her for an orgasm the likes of which she had never experienced.

When Grayson’s tongue lashed her nipple, she squirmed with desire. Finally his hard lips engulfed the taut peak and drew firmly, over and over, sending fierce jolts of pleasure to her liquid, throbbing core.

“More?” he whispered. “I could suck your nipples for hours, you know.”

Eliza inhaled unsteadily. “It feels so good, but I need your mouth between my legs. I want…I want you to lick my pussy.”

Shock widened his eyes at the word he often used but she never had. Then he smiled, a smile so tender and wicked, she nearly came on the spot when his big, strong hands carefully spread her thighs wide and he lowered his head.

His thumbs parted the thatch of auburn curls guarding her mound, and for a brief moment, his breath was a gentle tease against her soaked flesh. Then his tongue drove in, strong and sure and rough, licking her folds and massaging her clit until she came with a low scream. But Grayson didn’t stop as the pulses rocked her entire body, just kept greedily lapping up the juice as it trickled from her center, even pushing his tongue deep inside her for more. When he lightly pinched her clit with his thumb and forefinger while his tongue ruthlessly plundered, she came again, her hips bucking wildly.

“Yes, Lizzie,” he panted against her. “Keep coming in my mouth. Your pussy tastes so good.”

Eliza shook her head, her body wrung out from the power of her orgasms, and yet wanting more. Needing to be filled.

Leaning forward, she took the lapels of Grayson’s robe in her hands, tugging him upward until his mouth was level with hers. Then she kissed him, savoring the sweet and musky taste of champagne and wetness he’d drank from her, while one hand slid down to find his thick cock beautifully, wonderfully hard and ready.

“Excellent,” she purred, giving his erection a firm squeeze. “Now I’m going to ride you, and we’ll test exactly how well-made this chaise really is.”

“Yes. Fuck, yes,” said Grayson hoarsely, quickly settling himself on the chaise, one long leg resting against the back, the other braced on the floor. When she slowly sank down onto his engorged cock, he groaned, his eyes closing briefly in an expression of total erotic bliss. Her heart clenched at the thought of how many moments she’d missed listening to her head rather than her intuition. But there was no time to dwell on that now, not when her neglected body was so desperate to feel him deep.

Their rhythm remained awkward at first as she bore down and he thrust upward, but after several strokes they were gorgeously, perfectly together, straining and grinding and gasping as they hurtled toward ecstasy. Then Grayson pressed her clit with his thumb and she tumbled over the edge, her inner muscles pulsing and clenching him so hard he jerked and spurted long streams of hot seed inside her.

Exhausted, she sighed with happiness and collapsed onto his chest. His arms immediately closed around her, and when one hand began stroking her back, she only had time to process one last thought before the sleep of the utterly sated overcame her.

Thank heavens the chaise was sturdier than it looked.

Chapter Four

“Stop it, the pair of you. Fucking married men. This is a serious business meeting, and you both keep staring at the bloody door like you want to escape. You’re both goddamned crazy. Grace and Eliza are just women. Perfectly nice women, I grant you, but not goddesses!”

Devil raised an eyebrow at Vice’s irritable outburst, but it was difficult to manufacture a more scathing response when he felt so damned calm and content. Two days had passed since Sin and Grace’s wedding and the awful evening at the club which had turned into the best night of his life. For the first time in months, he was starting to feel…hope. He and Eliza were talking, really talking, she was back where she belonged with him in the office, and the sex just kept getting better. He’d been a fool to doubt the reason she had returned. “On the contrary. Eliza is absolutely a goddess, and your blathering is preventing me from joining her in my office. We have piles of accounts to go through.”

“You know, Dev,” said Sin with a smirk, “the harem reports the oddest sounds coming from your office when you and Eliza are working on all those accounts.”

Devil’s lips twitched. “No idea what you’re talking about. But I might counter with the mysterious orders for jade dildos and quantities of scented oil that somehow never make it to the toy chamber.”

His friend coughed and looked away.

“My God,” exclaimed Vice, slapping the table. “Look at his cheeks! Never thought I’d see the day the legendary Sebastian St. John blushed like a fucking debutante. I rest my case, marriage has destroyed him. Both of you should hand over your shares to me and retire to Bath with all the other feeble ancients.”

Sin shook his head. “One day, dear boy, one day, you’ll find the woman who turns your life upside down in the best way. God knows the level of hellion she’d have to be to make waves in your world, though. London might never recover.”

“Which is exactly why I shall never succumb,” said Vice, shuddering. “But can we please, please return to the matter at hand? Midsummer Night’s festivities? The date is only a week away now, and I have preparations to oversee.”

Devil sat back on his chair, tapping his chin. “I wondered about, ah, pagan.”

“Pagan? Fairies and fire and roses and such? Hmmm, yes. A sterling choice for those of us with majestic red h…oh Christ.”

“What?”

“I thought you were being creative and out of the ledger for once, but you just want to show off your wife. Bastard.”