Blood Fire by Sharon Page Page B

part in their mouths. But you lick and suck at me, so obviously it cannot be as easy as just holding you between my lips.”
    Dear God. “Sweeting,” Matthew managed to rasp, “I would not mind just being held.”
    “But you made me have a peak of pleasure. An orgasm.” She frowned. “I want to do the same for you, but you must tell me how.”
    She was going to kill him. “Lady O, you do whatever you want. Whatever you feel comfortable with.”
    She undid the last button of his trousers, though she was breathing hard. She squirmed on the seat.
    He’d forgotten—she was wearing a gown and a corset. She couldn’t be comfortable. He was going to marry her, so he asked, “Can you spend the night with me?”
    “What?”
    Holding her arms, he lifted her to a seated position. “Stay with me, and I can remove your clothing.” With fumbling fingers, he undid her cloak, then dealt with the fastenings of her dress. Once the bodice was falling off her, he drew the sides off her shoulders, and undid the bow at the base of her stays, and loosened them.
    Freed from her dress, Octavia lay down again, on top of her cloak and the seat. She felt strength coursing through her whole body. She would spend a night with Sutcliffe if she had to move heaven and earth to do it. “Yes.”
    But he had asked her to marry him.
    Could she? Was he in love with her? Had he fallen in love with her while making love to her?
    “Good, because I want to be naked with you.” As the carriage rumbled along, he grasped his trousers and pushed them down. Even with the vehicle swaying, he managed to get his trousers down around his ankles, and get his coat, his waistcoat, and his shirt off.
    He was certainly determined to get undressed.
    She certainly loved seeing him naked.
    Once he was nude, she suddenly discovered how erotic it was to lie on her back while he straddled her. Above her, his ballocks dangled, wrinkly and intriguing. They swayed with the carriage motion. She put up her flat palm and bumped them gently. She wanted to stroke, but knew they were sensitive, so she just cradled them. Even that slight touch made him take a sharp, hard breath.
    His erection pointed straight up. Now she could see all its fascinating details. The thick shaft was not smooth, but seemed to be made of three long, tall stalks, and veins encircled it. His curls were a dark brown, and his shaft rose out of the thicket of them, so amazingly straight.
    Octavia tentatively wrapped her hands around him. She couldn’t touch her fingers together near the bottom of his shaft.
    It was utterly straight, stiff as iron. The head looked glossy, and a droplet of moisture rolled off the full, smooth crown.
    What would it taste like? It looked clear, like champagne. She wanted to know. She opened her mouth and touched her tongue to the head. . . .
    Salty. Ripe tasting. Intriguing. She clumsily ran her tongue over the tip of his member. It bobbed away from her, so she clasped it with two hands—it was like holding a sword. She tried to tug it down, but it didn’t want to come to her mouth, and she didn’t want to hurt him.
    He put his hand on the shaft, near the hilt. Ruthlessly he pushed it down. He was breathing fast, faster than he’d done even when making love to her.
    She arched up, opened her mouth wide, and gobbled him inside.
    It was so astonishing. The head of his cock was soft, but obviously full. Against her tongue it felt as smooth as silk. She hadn’t thought it would be so hot. The taste was . . . not at all like her, but it tasted intimate.
    “You—you can suck it if you like.”
    He sounded hesitant. For all his arrogance, he didn’t make demands now. It was rather . . . mmm . . . sweet of him.
    How did she do this? He had thrust this shaft in and out of her quim. That had stimulated him, so she must try to do the same with her mouth. Holding her lips tight around the shaft, she took him deep inside. As deep as she could, before she realized how big he was, how