The Corrupt Comte by Edie Harris Read Free Book Online

he’d been taught by the last whore he’d bedded, nearly a year ago. As she responded, instantly, beautifully, he tested the entrance to her body for evidence of her virginity…and found it.
    More , his mind urged feverishly. Take more. Take it all .
    Take it so that Sabien cannot .
    Massaging the barrier of tissue with faint pressure, he distracted her with words. With knowledge. “You should.”
    Her lower body began to writhe, every move rhythmic, hypnotizing. “Sh-should what?”
    A little more pressure on her hymen, a little more speed on her clit. His fingers spread her moisture around, opening her cunt lips to his seeking touch. “Should touch yourself. Here.”
    “Why w-w-would I d-do th-that?” She was panting now, gasping.
    “Because it feels good.” She felt good, so good. Wet. Aroused. Almost as aroused as he was, his cock thick and heavy in his trousers, and so sensitized—without so much as a single stroke from his hand—that the linen smallclothes he wore might as well have been burlap against his balls. “Because I get hard imagining you pleasuring yourself in bed. Alone.”
    Another gush of wetness onto his fingers. “Hard?”
    “ Oui. ” He couldn’t avoid it any longer. “This may hurt.”
    “What—?”
    His two middle fingers broke through the thin barrier of her virginity, instantly gloved in the hot, tight channel of her body. He permitted himself a silent shudder as his cock pulsed with painful, unsatisfied need.
    She flinched, hissing, and clenched like a vise around the intrusion of his fingers. “Not s-s-so g-good.”
    I’ll make you feel good again, kitten. He adjusted his hold on the bunched layers of her gown as he continued to circle his thumb over her stiff nub, holding the fingers inside her still, knowing she needed to adjust.
    Wishing he had been allowed that same courtesy long years before.
    They were out of time—he knew it, could feel that pocket watch breathing down his neck, but he’d just stolen her maidenhood without so much as a blink or a warning. As much of a bastard as he was, even he knew this was the one moment that should not be rushed.
    So he kissed her again.
    Plush lips, full and giving and everything he’d never known he wanted from the mouth of a woman. With every teasing taste of his tongue between her lips, he matched a stroke to her clitoris, and eventually the tension left her. The truth of her returned desire became evident in the slow rocking of her hips against his hand.
    He thrust upward, once, gently.
    She moaned into his mouth.
    Oh, fuck.
    Again his fingers moved, a slick slide into the most luscious heat ever to scald him. His cock ached, bruised with need, demanding to replace his fingers in the sheath of this wriggling female, spread wide and bound for him. He tore his lips from hers to trail damp kisses, more teeth than tongue, down her throat, nibbling at the line of her clavicle.
    “Move on my hand, chaton ,” he growled into sweet skin.
    Her panting breaths echoed the rhythm set by his fingers, his thumb. He twisted her skirts between their bodies until he was assured they wouldn’t fall, then placed that hand at the small of her back to tug her into him.
    His erection brushed against her hip.
    Laving the spot where neck met shoulder, taking her taste onto his desperate tongue, he curled the fingers clasped inside her, discovering a hidden ridge of tissue that, when he pressed, bowed her back. She cried out in pleasure.
    “ Oui. Yes, be loud for me.” Dangerous words, but she was wet. She was so wet, cream he wanted to lap up coating his palm as she rode his hand. He spurred her forward, guiding her halting movements with the hand at her back. “Let go,” he ordered. “Let go.”
    “I…d-don’t…I don’t…” Her blindfolded head thrashed to one side, then the other, moaning beautifully in his ear.
    Closing his eyes, he allowed himself one more selfish thrust of his cock against her hip before muttering, “ Soumettre.