Page 74 of Consort's Glory
Nothing to complain about.
“Yes,” she answered, adorably shy considering her taste lingered on his tongue. “I want to touch you.”
The unmistakable ring of truth was a cool balm to the clinging worry in the back of his mind. Margot wanted to touch him. They would work everything else out later. Right now, the only thing he cared about was her.
Theodore reluctantly extracted himself from the glorious apex of her thighs to crawl over her. He still knelt on the floor, being considerably taller than both her and her pitiful little cot, but this way he could cover her with his bulk and kiss her until they both forgot to breathe.
“Then touch me,” he murmured against her thudding pulse.
He felt Margot’s small hand crawl up his side, under the lapel of his suit jacket. “But you’re still wearing so many clothes.”
“Undress me.”
Theodore was close enough to hear the hitch in her breath, to feel the way her whole body quivered at his rough command. She likes this, he realized, fighting a long, pained groan. She’s perfect.
Margot’s breath was a hot rasp in his ear as she used one hand to slowly pull his shirt out from his slacks. The slide of fabric against his hyper-sensitive skin was torture. The hot bar of his aching cock in his underwear? Infinitely worse.
Unable to help himself, he braced himself on his elbows above her and, ignoring the way the cot squealed in protest, stared down the length of his torso to watch her work.
His shirt slid free from his belt and slacks, but Margot didn’t take the time to unbutton it. Instead, she thrust her cold little hand beneath it to skate over the tense muscles of his abdomen, the thin trail of dark hair that disappeared beneath his belt. The touch of her fingers, the slide of her palm — Theodore had to force himself to keep still, to not react to such a simple touch with an embarrassing lack of control.
No, they wouldn’t be having their first time in this hovel, on this ridiculous excuse for a bed, but he still had his pride. Like fuck he was going to come at the feeling of her fingers on his stomach, for Glory’s sake!
To distract himself from the worrying tension pulling at the base of his spine, Theodore focused on Margot. Her expression was intensely focused. Eyebrows furrowed, her kiss-swollen lower lip tucked between her blunt little teeth, she was a potent mix of minx and innocent that threatened to drive him mad.
She was also going way too slow.
“Darling, use both hands,” he gasped, fully aware of just how desperate he sounded, how close he was to the edge.
“What?” She glanced down at where her right hand was still pressed against her chest, her fingers curled around his discarded glove like a talisman. Her cheeks flushed. “Oh, right.”
Putting the glove aside, she set to unbuckling his belt with quick, nervous movements. Not wanting to make her more nervous and needing to keep a tight leash on his self control, Theodore held himself frozen above her as the leather slid free from his buckle with a soft clink of metal. Her little fingers moved to the button and then the zipper of his slacks.
Sweating in earnest now, he watched, holding his breath, as those soft healer’s fingers slid into his underwear.
“Fuck.” His hips jerked. Electricity raced up his spine as her fingers slid against his length, a shy caress that made him want to bite her and bite her and bite her.
Theodore buried his face in her hair and breathed deep, his lungs expanding like billows as his body fought to process the overload of sensation. The pull made every part of him more sensitive to her touch, to her taste, to her scent, but this was on a completely new level.
Margot stilled, her fingers curling away from where he wanted them to be. “Are— are you okay? Did I do something wrong?”
Fuck. Theodore squeezed his eyes shut, fearing that if he looked at her he would just start bucking into her hand and never stop. Turning his head blindly, he pressed a hard kiss to the corner of her mouth. “No, darling,” he choked out, “you’re doing amazing. I’m just close.”
“Oh.”
That soft exhalation, breathed against his ear, combined with the way her soft fingers gripped him with more confidence? My cause of death.
He keened softly when Margot freed him from the confines of his underwear. “Is this right?” she asked, dragging her fist up slowly, so slowly. Margot’s voice was husky with desire, a rough caress to his senses. With her delicious, tart flavor on his tongue and her scent in his nose, speech was entirely beyond him.
Nodding helplessly, Theodore dragged his mouth against her jaw and rocked his hips into her hand.
Margot’s soft sound of pleasure was like a shot to his chest. “You’re so warm and soft. You look so strong, I never thought…” Her hand tightened, increasing the pressure around his throbbing cock. Another soft sound, this one of surprise, as pre-come beaded on the crown and rolled downward, easing the slide of her palm. “I never thought I’d enjoy it this much.”
Margot picked up her pace. Her hands were so soft. Her touch was as unskilled as his, but intent, focused in ways that proved she wanted him just as much as he wanted her.
“Darling.” He sucked in a huge breath, taking in the scent of her desire as it built ever-thicker in the air.
“Does this feel good, Theodore?” she murmured. Margot’s thighs cradled his hips as she worked him, her stomach moving as she subtly rocked in time with her strokes.
