What She Craves (2 page)

The fabric of her shift dampened and clung to the lips of her sex. She wanted to feel their slickness with her bare touch, but she didn't dare lift her skirts in the open and touch herself.

Imagining her fingers were Rupert's, she caressed the swollen folds through the muslin and brushed over the hard bud between. Lightning shot through her body and a groan bubbled up her throat. Every muscle in her body strained for release.

Rupert's breath labored and Emma whimpered with each stroke. His phallus shimmered with wetness and the head and skin shone an intense red each time his penis pulled out.

Hannah pressed the fabric into her opening, mimicking Rupert's stroke, and rubbed hard against her blissful nubbin. Her eyes barely slit open, she watched as Rupert grew closer to spending in Emma.

Rupert grunted, then cried out a deep thrilling sound that was music to Hannah's ears and body. Splendid contractions wracked her, starting from womb and spreading through her entire being. Her knees weakened and she braced herself with her shoulder against the tree. How she wished this magic coursing through her was created from his prick.

 

Kenneth Walker plodded down the path toward the river. He refused to stall any longer. They needed to be ready for the members when they arrived for the masque. The masters would be excited about the event and ready for bawdy play. If they weren't there to greet them when they arrived, things would get out of control.

Damn Rupert for not restraining himself until the festivities for a bit of nifty. Last night finally proved to Kenneth that he preferred his loving one-on-one. Emma had favored him, much to Rupert's annoyance, then all but wrapped her legs around him this morning before the group could rise.

He refused to be any woman's plaything. Just the idea that Emma was Rupert's and preferred other men made his skin crawl. Out of respect for Rupert, he let this morning's flirtation pass without comment.

Memories of his father's sobs in his aunt's library as his mother coldly told him she would not give up her lover chilled his spine. His jaw clenched and his cheek twitched. How she reduced the powerful Duke of Deventon to a slobbering lump still puzzled him. He shook himself to rid the thought.

Never, never would he let himself fall prey to that kind of humiliation or, more precisely, to that kind of woman for more than one night.

He rounded the turn in the path, and the summerhouse lay ahead.

“Emma, dear, I want to feel your hot cunt while you frig Kit with your mouth.”

Shit. He stopped in his tracks. So much for his dallying. Turning toward the river, he beheld black hair and a deep blue dress peeking out from behind a white birch tree.

Well, well. His lips curved up. Someone peeped on Rupert and his games. He held in a chuckle. If Rupert knew, he would perform to the fullest and probably spill his seed within a second.

The woman's face slid out from behind the tree and gazed into the summerhouse. Her hands slid up and down the rough bark as if she stroked a large cock.

Damn, what a pretty thing. And oddly familiar. He glanced at her hands again as they clenched the edges of the bark. His chest tightened. Could it be? He stared back at her, black hair and a round face with pale clear skin.

God, that tiny nose and those lush lips occasioned his dreams. A groan caught in this throat as he stiffened. What stood behind that tree would be just as magnificent as it had been twelve years ago. Even better, she would have matured into a woman, soft, with flesh in all the right places.

Hannah Hay, the Marquess of Wolverland's eldest daughter and the first woman to touch his cock, stood watching his friends as she stroked a tree-sized prick in her mind. Only her imagination could make such a leap. His smile grew bigger and his cock throbbed. Lulling his head back, his fingers found the ridge that pressed against his buckskins and he stroked.

Hannah's hands had been so small and soft against the tender flesh of his youthful prick. His body shook. He had longed to touch her for weeks. When she finally consented, he had been so aroused that he spent after one stroke of her silky hand.

His fingers tightened upon the ridge of his straining shaft, and he forced his eyes open to watch her as she spied on Rupert in awe and fascination. Her face was still so easy to read: curiosity, pleasure, and arousal showed clear as day on her chinadoll features.

Her pink tongue slid out and traced her lips, then her mouth opened as if taking a prick between their fullness. Damn, those lush lips would feel amazing on his cock. Wetness seeped into his pants and his prick strained. Closing her eyes, she sucked in the sides of her cheeks.

Good God! Without a doubt Emma sucked Kit right now, and Hannah wanted to suck someone too. Raw need flooded his body, and he stepped forward. He would walk to her and offer his body like he did all those years ago.

His boyish voice came back to him.
“Come now, Hannah. Let me tickle you.”

She had been awkward then, just as he had. His mouth watered as he touched his boyhood tongue to the crevice at the base of her throat and tasted her skin. She would taste the same. He knew it.

The smell of her perfume and the sound of her laughter. Shaking hands, trembling bodies, and sloppy, urgent kisses. His throat constricted. God, the way she had looked at him and gently touched his face. No woman since had been able to measure to her genuine kindness when his world shattered. This time what they shared would be different; no one would force him to leave. This time he would bed her and bed her well.

“Ahhhha!”

The cry of passion snapped him back to the sight at hand. Emma moaned and whimpered. Kit surely spent and now stroked her as Rupert had his way. They would be done soon, and he wanted Hannah to know he watched her watching them.

He cleared his throat loud enough for Rupert to hear in the cottage.

Hannah did not budge, but her hands slid down the front of her dress.

He shook his head and smiled. Just like her to be so absorbed. She probably wouldn't notice if a herd of sheep wandered through. Bending down, he picked up a stick and tossed the twig at the tree she stood behind. The foot-long branch hit square against the trunk and she jumped. Her gaze flew to him as he stood in the path to the summerhouse. He grinned.
Yes, dear, someone is watching you.

The trail was the only way she could go. If she went past the summerhouse, Rupert would see. She glanced at the house, then at the path. Her face flamed crimson.

Ah, Hannah, how you flatter me.
He did not know there were still people around who blushed at such things. With her head lowered, she turned on her heel and cut through the trees to the riverbank.

Oh no, you don't, my sweet Hannah.
In five long strides, he came up behind her and clasped her arm.

She pulled, but his grasp held firm. “Let go of me, you beast!”

“Sweet, sweet Hannah…”

 

Hannah's eyes widened. “Do I know you, sir? Please unhand me.” Yanking her arm again, his grip eased but did not fall from her body.

Her heart pounded so hard the beat made her hands shake. How could someone have seen her? Good Lord. This was the man Emma mentioned when Hannah first spied on them. He knew what she watched. Her cheeks grew hotter. She averted her gaze to the riverbed and stepped away from him.

“Not so quickly, sweet.” His hand stroked her arm, and lightning slid through her veins straight to the place between her thighs.
Not now, blast you, damn body.
She closed her eyes and tried to quell the shiver his caress caused, but failed. His muscles stiffened in return.

“Don't say you don't remember me.” The man shook his head at her as she tried once again to yank her arm free.

“Damn you, sir, let go of—”

“I believe I was the first man to ever touch you.”

“P-pardon?”

He inclined his head and raised his eyebrows.

Her mouth dropped open. “Kenny…Kenny Walker?”

He smiled. Then laughed. “Haven't been called Kenny in ages, but, yes.”

Was this truly him? The young man with whom twelve years ago she had spent her most memorable summer. They had run through the woods, played hide-and-seek, and swum in the lake with her sisters and his brother. Her first infatuation, her first kiss. Good Lord. The young man who by just saying “Hannah” had made her heart pound and heat grace her cheeks with wicked thoughts.

She searched his face. His strong straight nose, angled cheeks, and dimpled chin were the same. His eyes, the same smoky brown that you could get lost in, stared back at her with intense heat. Her body dewed, remembering all that that hungry stare promised.

She studied his body. Oh my! His shoulders had broadened, and his chest, encased in a tight-fitting coat, left little to the imagination. Her breath hitched at sculpted thighs encased in tight buckskin breeches. A lump formed in her throat, and she swallowed hard, envisioning those legs tangled in hers.

A very fit, attractive, and well-muscled man stood before her. God, he was much taller than she remembered. Her memories…oh. Her eyes closed. His fingers as they slid up her skirts and into her wet folds, making her tremble in such a way she thought she would die.

Kenny gently stroked her arm and with his thumb traced circles in the fabric of her sleeve. Her nipples ached, pebbled hard, wanting the circular motion.

His hasty departure from his aunt's after a summer of friendship and flirtation and his last words “
I will bed you one day, dear sweet Hannah”
slid through her mind.

She stared at his breeches where his erection bulged. He didn't even try to conceal his arousal. He journeyed to the summerhouse today to have relations with his friends. He, like her husband, was a rake, with a bad enough reputation that she had heard of his adventures.

A deep rumble of a laugh came from him, and his erection twitched beneath the leather of his pants. Her cheeks grew warm, but she was unable to pull her stare from the bulge. All she wanted was to touch that ridge. God, she was mad.

“Let me tickle you, my sweet,” he said as he slid his finger beneath her chin and raised her eyes.

Eyes blazing with need met hers. Her sex clenched and she groaned. His words, the same he used all those years ago. She bit her lip. Her body knew the promise in those words. But what if she was as bad as her husband claimed? Kenny had been with many women since their encounter…

“Hannah? Please…” His voice, filled with raspy desire, caressed her nerves. She needed to be touched, and who better to touch her than the man who initiated her to the act of coitus?

“Yes, Kenny, touch me. Touch me.”

H
annah slid her hands under Kenny's coat as he pulled her to him in an embrace that turned her limbs to pudding. His strong muscled arms squeezed her, burying her face into his waistcoat and crushing his starched white cravat. He smelled the way a man should—clean spice soap, leather and sweat, or arousal. The hair on the back of her neck prickled, and her body trembled. She inhaled again and sighed. It didn't matter that this was scandalous, she yearned for him to touch her, and he was willing to oblige.

“This way.” He released her from his hold with a groan, laced his gloved fingers with hers, and pulled her along the riverbank. Reaching the grass pasture, he pulled her up the grassy slope without saying a word.

What a striking man. As a boy, he was handsome, but now he possessed the power and presence of his father. Only a powerful man would contemplate slighting him.

Her sister, Louisa, wrote once to say she sighted him at a ball. The gossips were all a-wag about his exploits. Apparently, he was very selective about the women he propositioned, and when he did find a lady he fancied, he would make her an offer of only one night.

His brown hair blew in the slight breeze and stood at awkward angles. Her knees weakened, and she wobbled. He looked like a god, Hercules or some such. A woman would have to be mad not to accept such an offer from him.

A grin crossed her face.

She stared at his bum as he stopped and glanced around. What a beautiful backside. Under the tails of his coat, she could just barely see the rounded flesh. Firm in his breeches with a slight squared edge. In her mind, her hands slid across the smooth hot surface, the tiny down hairs tickling her hands as he slid into her. Oh. Her hands trembled as wetness coated her sex.

He stopped abruptly. “This will have to do, sweet.” Dropping her hand, he shucked off his coat and gloves, then placed them on the grass. He stared at her and smiled; sexual heat radiated from him.

This tall powerful man meant to touch her. She couldn't believe it. He would touch her in a way no other man had ever come close to. She bit her lip and feared she would never live up to his experience.

His waistcoat landed next to his coat on the grass as smoky eyes slid down her length. Yes, indeed he wanted her. She couldn't allow herself to disappoint him. Good Lord, please don't let that happen.

With trembling hands, she unbuttoned and removed her gloves. She needed to feel his hot skin beneath her bare caress.

“Come.” Kenny held out his hand and pulled her to him. His body, so firm and strong, pressed against her soft curves.

Yes, this was happening. She would—

His lips touched hers, feather light. She couldn't breathe. The warmth settled again and pressed firmly, opening, pushing teeth against softness. She froze. If Simon was right and she was horrid, her dreams of this man would be shattered forever. Kenny stiffened and pulled back.

No, don't do this to yourself. You waited too long to prove you are desirable and that you can give pleasure. Be bold. Follow your body's desires.

She lifted her shaking hands up his chest and pressed onto her tiptoes, her tongue slid out and licked the clef in his chin.

Kenny groaned and tightened his grip on her.

See, you can do this.

“Sweet, sweet,” he whispered.

His lips trailed back to hers and fused with urgent, intense heat. Her tongue pushed into his mouth, tasting coffee and spice. God, it had been too long. The determined tangle of his tongue with hers made her heart race. She needed more. She needed it all. She stepped forward and forced her body into direct contact with his length.

Growling, he rubbed her belly with his hips. Good Lord, his prick. Her whole body trembled. The large line of hard flesh pressing into her was unmistakable. Waves of pleasure spiraled from the spot filling the tender flesh between her thighs. Juice dripped down her leg as she imagined his large phallus filling her. She wanted this act with him, but would it happen or would he become disgusted with her before it came to the tickle?

His hands slid to the swell of her bottom and cupped her, spreading the spheres. A large male thigh slid between her legs, pressing against her sex. She moaned. Heat raced through her veins as her hips arched into him. So good…The sensation felt so good.

Her hands slid down his belly, and his muscles jumped and tensed. Reaching the waist of his breeches, her fingers slid down his hard phallus.

“Umm.” His encouragement vibrated through their dueling tongues. She wanted to see the ridge of flesh, not just touch the skin, to compare his full-grown sex to the beauty of his youthful prick. Finding the buttons to his flap on the waist of his trousers, she popped one from its home.

Kenny pulled from the kiss and placed his forehead on hers. “Good God, Hannah, this is too much.” Kissing the tip of her nose, he lifted her off the ground. “I'm certainly dreaming.” He spun her around, laid her in the grass atop his clothes, wedging a hard leg between her thighs.

Bolts of lightning slid through her. Soon he would wedge his entire body in that spot, sliding his prick into her as she writhed beneath him. She studied his face; only desire resided in the depths of his eyes. There was no anger, no disappointment. She could do this; she would pleasure him.

Her hands clenched fistfuls of shirt. Oh how she wanted to run her hands up his naked back and clasp his clenching bum, to wrap her hand and her tongue around his throbbing staff.

To make him cry out.

She never felt so wanton in all her life.

“Kenny. I…” God, how did she ask if she could lick his prick? If he said no, she would feel like such a simpleton. Her cheeks warmed, and she closed her eyes.

“Yes, sweet?” He placed a kiss on the exposed skin of her neck. His soft hair brushing the tender skin beneath her chin. He kissed her just thus all those years ago. She trembled at the memory of what came next.

His tongue slid and swirled into the circular crevice at the base of her throat. A groan crept from deep within her chest as she imagined his tongue licking the rest of her, the moist heat circling her breasts, her belly button, and her sex. Oh God. She needed this. She needed him. Her hands gripped his shoulders, then trailed to his neck, searching for bare, hot skin.

“Hannah?” His mouth pulled from her flesh, and her eyes fluttered open. He stared at her. “What do you need, sweet?”

“I…I want to see your prick,” she blurted.

Please, please don't pull away from me.
Her breath hitched as his muscles tensed and he pushed away from her. His brows drew together, and he stared at her with an amused smile. He wasn't displeased. Thank goodness.

He sat back on his feet and pulled her up to kneel beside him, grinning. “Do you?”

His hands busily worked at the last two fastenings of his buckskins, then he reached in and slid his phallus out. Her breath caught. Beautiful. More beautiful than she remembered. His prick jumped in his hand, and as he gazed back at her, the corner of her lips turned up. “Can I touch it, Kenny?”

“Yes,” he said, and closed his eyes.

She scooted forward so that her legs touched his, and trailed her fingers about the smooth shaft. A deep groan rumbled in his chest.

The blazing heat of his prick seeped through her icy skin. The head, the shape of a plum, with a deep ridge where the shaft connected, made her mouth water. Her lips would fit in that indentation.

Closing her fingers about the shaft, she could barely circumference the girth. She placed her other hand above her first and gripped him. Amazing, room still resided between her hand and the fat tip.

She wanted to lick the heated skin. To taste his satiny smoothness. Her tongue slid out and wet her lips. Glancing up, she met black pools of heat.

He licked his lips, gritted his teeth, then nodded. “Lark me with your mouth, Hannah.”

He knew what she wanted. She wet her lips again as he reclined farther back and outstretched his long legs.

Please let me do this right.

She stared at the round plump head—
Do just as Emma did
—then leaned in and placed her pursed lips on the tip. His body jerked and his breath caught.

The hot tip tasted of salt, and the flesh smelled deliciously sweet and spicy. Sliding her tongue through her lips, she licked the eye at the tip.

His hand fumbled, pushing up her skirts, and slid up the length of her leg. She jumped at the intimate caress, and wetness flowed from between her legs. He was going to touch her weeping flesh. Good Lord, yes. She wanted his touch
there
. Her thighs parted to welcome him.

His large hand seized her bum and sensation seeped through her. She paused to savor his heat on her skin. If she disgusted him before this was through, she would have this moment locked away for her lonely nights.

His fingers probed between her bum cheeks, pushing into her wetness. Oh! Her sex throbbed. Her breath jittered with each stroke he made. She needed to return the sensation. She slid her lips down the sculpted taper of his phallus to the deep ridge, swirling the edge with her moisture.

“Damn, sweet.” His hips jerked up, and a finger curled into the opening of her sex.

“Uhh…” Her hips pressed down against the invasion. She wanted him deeper within her.

“Take more, my sweet, please. Lick the head…suck me into your mouth…like you wanted to when you watched.”

Good Lord, he saw that. It didn't matter. She wanted to lick his prick, suck his hardness, and taste his seed.

Placing her hand at the base of the staff, as she had read in one of her books, she slid three inches of hot male flesh into her mouth. “Umm.” Her tongue rubbed the underside, feeling the raised veins and sucking back to the tip. Kenny groaned deliciously and breathed in, clenching his teeth.

She sucked him again and again, each time achieving the same result. Each groan from him melted her reluctance, emboldened her actions, and made her body hum. His fingers slid in and out of her sex. As her hips pressed down, his thumb pressed into her bumhole.

Her entire body tensed. “Ahh.” What a strange sensation. The pressure turned pleasurable as he moved his fingers, and the bliss intensified.

She continued to suck to the top of his prick, then swirled the fat spear with her tongue. The saltiness of his skin turned tangy, and she could feel his sack tighten under her hands.

“Good God, Hannah. I'm about to discharge.”

Indeed, she wanted to taste him. Placing her other hand fully on the sack, she massaged as she descended.

“Hannah…” His hips rose again, and she slid him farther into her mouth. Fingers laced through her hair, grasping her head. She sucked back to the tip. His hips thrust up, and she slid down.

“Oh…uh…by God, H-Hannah!” he shouted, clenching her head as he thrust his hips. His penis slid in and out of her mouth and gush after gush of hot custard spurted into her. His hips settled back to the ground, and she slid off his hard phallus. Swallowing the tangy fluid, she smiled.

She enjoyed the taste of him. Her tongue traced her lips. Even more, she enjoyed pleasuring him. She did it. She pleasured him. A grin spread from ear to ear. She wanted to get up and dance a jig around his spent body.

There was no way he could say otherwise. He had cried out, and she had caused his delight.

His chest rose and fell with labored breaths.

She sat back on her feet and stared at his penis as the flesh shriveled. Her hand trailed up the inside of his thigh and traced the base of the rod with her fingers. The hairs created a black nest for his manhood to lie against. Could she arouse him again? She glanced at his face. A small smile curved his lips but he still didn't move. She bit her lip and stared at his flaccid sex, then wrapped her hand about the prick.

He chuckled. “Not yet, sweet.” His hand possessed her wrist. “Come here. My turn.”

He rose up on his elbows with lazy, passion-filled eyes, and yanked her atop him. Rolling, he pinned her beneath him. Face-to-face, chest-to-chest, and hips-to-stomach, her legs so wantonly wrapped about his. He was so large. With the tip of his finger, he traced her cheekbone.

“Umm.” Kenny shook his head, leaned down, and licked a trail to her ear. “More beautiful,” he whispered. Twinges raced through her, and gooseflesh scattered on her skin. The situation was the same as years ago, except this time they both wished to take things to full coitus.

“Kenny.”

“Shh, my turn, sweet.”

He leaned back and wedged his leg between hers. Lifting and shifting himself, he freed her skirts from his legs and laid them upon her stomach. He did not touch her, and her legs spread farther in seek of his touch. Still nothing. The muscles of her sex grasped readily at the air, trying to find any part of him to ease their desire. She leaned up to see him staring at her sex. Why was he doing that? “Touch me, Kenny, please. I'm about to burst.”