Read Online My Lady's Pleasure by Olivia Quincy - Free Book Online Page A

She felt his tongue on her skin, warm and wet, and the warmth and the wetness spread through her. She arched toward him; she ached for him. She felt the hollowness at her center that she knew she needed him to fill.
    He took the hand that still had a finger in his mouth, and guided it to the bowl. He held her forefinger in his hand and used it like a spoon to get a dollop of the cream. Then he led that hand to her breast and ran her own finger around her nipple, spreading the cream at its base. He licked the remaining cream from her finger, slowly. He started at the base and flicked his tongue over the webbing between her forefinger and middle finger. In her entire life, she’d never been touched there by another human being, and she was surprised at the sensitivity, the eroticism of it.
    Gerry ran the very tip of his tongue up the underside of her finger, and then took the tip in his mouth. Rose was consumed by the sensuality of the tiny point of contact between her hand and his mouth. It was as though her finger was the proxy for her body, and he was licking all of her.
    And then he leaned over and took the nipple, cream and all, into his mouth, and Rose felt enveloped. And she felt the need to envelop in return. She pushed him back until he was against the opposite wall of the narrow hallway. She deftly unbuttoned his waistcoat and shirt and ran her hands up and down his chest.
    He wasn’t a beauty; that she had to admit to herself. He was growing a bit stout, and the rough hair on his chest was already graying. But his eyes were kind and his smile was quick, and it was, perhaps, because he didn’t have such a fine figure that she could feel an attraction to him that was honest, free of worry about her own looks or the social chasm between them.
    Whatever the reason, she couldn’t deny the attraction. She took a deep breath to cool herself down, and then she took another fingerful of cream. She ran her finger down the center of his chest, slowly, and then let her tongue follow her finger. She lapped up the cream with little darting motions, starting at the top and working her way down, down. When she reached the waist of his pants, she fell to her knees and worked the buttons deftly.
    His cock was as hard as a billy club, and he didn’t think it could get any harder. But when Rose ran her fingers lightly up its sides and made that darting motion with her tongue on the underside of its shaft, it got harder still. She reached again for the cream and put one small dab on the very tip of his penis. Then she encircled the tip with her wet, soft lips and sucked gently.
    This drove him mad. He had an almost uncontrollable urge to take her by the shoulders and shove the full length of his cock in her mouth, but it was as though she knew this, and she was testing to find out whether he was a lover or merely a brute.
    Brute he would not be. He did take her by the shoulders, to ease her away.
    “I can’t take much of that,” he told her as he raised her off her knees.
    Rose knew she could have finished him off in a moment, and she liked him for stopping her—it made her want him all the more. She had, in her years, experienced sex without any liking at all, and she thought it rather a luxury to have them both together.
    He backed her from the hall into the bedchamber, and onto the edge of the bed, her feet still on the floor. With adeptness born of practice, he flipped her skirts up and pulled her drawers off. He stood between her knees, cock almost vertical. He put one hand on each of her thighs and leaned over so that much of his weight was on them, and then he moved them up toward her hips. The pressure of his weight, and the roughness of his hands on her skin, sent a tingling excitement toward her center, and she again felt the insistent ache of longing. Her pussy, she could feel, was hot and soaked and ready.
    Neither of them wanted to wait another instant. Gerry moved his hands around under her and pulled her toward