My Fair Marchioness (Scandalous Affairs Book 3) by Christi Caldwell (best short books to read txt) 📗

her hips in a bid to get closer to his touch. “It’s certainly shameful, but I want it, Harris. So badly,” she keened.

Passion darkened his eyes, and he reversed positions. He perched her on the pianoforte, all the while continuing to stroke his fingers within her, teasing her nub. The keys tinkled a discordant medley of passion and yearning as she moved under his masterful touch.

Every arch of her hips brought more of that uneven music filling the Music Room and her ears, blending with the rasp of their ragged breaths, all mixed together.

Of their own volition, her legs splayed wider, and he palmed her there, cupping her in that place where she needed him most. Giving her what she craved.

Julia bit her lower lip hard to suppress the wanton little moan filtering past her lips.

“Do not hide your pleasure from me, Julia,” he whispered, his husked baritone surely the one that Satan himself used when tempting the weak to sin. “Let me hear it.”

And God help her for being weak, she let the next keening whimper fall, making no attempt to stifle that wicked sound.

“I love your breathy little moans,” he praised, sinking onto the pianoforte bench.

“Wh-what are you…?” Her words trailed off into an airy whisper of nothingness as stroked his long fingers along her naked calf, and then higher.

The chill of the room caressed her skin, hot melding with cold.

And then, slowly, he lowered his head, and she held her breath, scarcely daring to breathe as he dropped a kiss on the inside of her thigh.

She shivered. The sough of his breath tickled in the most delicious way.

“I want to make you scream, Julia,” he enticed between the kisses he left upon her inner leg. “You’d like that, too, wouldn’t you?”

He hovered with his mouth near the apex of her thighs, and her breath caught loudly.

Harris threaded his fingers through her damp curls, and she bit her lip, arching, pleading with her body’s movements. “Do you know what I want more than to hear your pleasure?”

All words failed her.

“I want to feel you.” With that, Harris slid a finger inside her sodden channel.

Whimpering, she nodded her head jerkily.

Harris lowered his lips to her ear, suckling at her lobe. “Tell me with your words, love.”

Resisting the shamefulness of that, she managed to shake her head.

He continued to stroke her, a delicious rhythm that brought her hips in a rise-and-fall motion that was beyond her control.

And then, suddenly, he stopped.

She whimpered.

“Uh-uh, love,” he teased. “Tell me how much you want it.”

He removed his fingers, and her entire body buckled at the loss.

“So badly,” she panted, and he slipped another long, masterful digit inside, rewarding her for her surrender.

Grateful for that gift, she slid her eyes closed and sank onto the keyboard. Then he began to work her, moving his fingers in and out of her. Over and over.

Moaning, Julia clenched her legs about his hand, thrusting her hips in a bid to assuage that throbbing ache. It wasn’t enough. She needed more of him.

Then something hot and wet touched her there, in that most private of places, and her eyes went flying open, and a gasp escaped her as she registered it was his mouth, giving her the most intimate of kisses.

Her hips shot up, and she immediately arched her hips back.

“Do you like this, Julia?” he whispered between each glide of his tongue.

Panting, she let her head fall back and surrendered fully to this moment. He alternately lapped and suckled of her. She shouldn’t like it. This was shameful and wrong, and her hungering for this wickedness was surely a product of her birthright—

He tasted her once more, and she slammed her hands behind her, pressing the keys hard. “Mmm.” She lifted her hips frantically into his questing mouth, grinding herself against him in a bid to get closer… to him, closer to that glorious peak of desire he’d brought her just yesterday.

“You taste so good,” he panted against her thatch, his breath hot against her moist curls. “But I want all of you, Julia.”

I want all of you.

He paused, lifting his gaze, his meaning clear, his request clearer. Forcing her heavy lashes up, she held his stare. “I want that, too.”

She wanted this memory, all of these glorious ones, before she left and faced the ugly that was awaiting her.

Shoving back the threatening images that danced at the corners of her mind, refusing to let them enter and steal these last moments of joy, she cupped Harris’ cheek with a hand that shook.

Passion darkened his gaze, and then he was moving away.

She silently cried out at the loss of him.

But he was only draping his jacket on the floor and then returning to lower her on top it. Raising herself onto her elbows, Julia watched unabashedly as Harris tugged his shirt off, and she drank in the sight of him, the chiseled planes of his flat belly, the light matting of hair upon his chiseled chest.

Harris tossed that lawn article aside. His boots and breeches followed, and then he stood before her, gloriously naked. She lowered her gaze to that enormous shaft jutting proudly out between his legs. He was enormous, hard all over, and that part of him was no different. Desire flooded her core. Julia lifted her arms up, reaching for him.

And then he was coming down, covering her body with his and lowering his mouth to her breasts once more. Bringing those mounds together, he flicked his tongue back and forth teasingly, laving both tips together until Julia was incoherent with need. Until her thoughts dissolved, her speech along with them.

He drew slightly back, and her eyes flew open.

Julia turned a questioning look upon him, silently pleading that he’d not