Free The Gilded Scarab by Anna Butler Page B

the edge of the bed. His cock was very hard and pressing against mine in a very satisfactory way. “Because I haven’t wanted anything as much for a long time. It’s been a while for me.”
    “I don’t think you’ll have forgotten what to do.” I pressed up against him, letting his hand smooth down my back. For a moment, while we kissed, his hand lifted from my body, and I heard him scrabbling around on the bedside cabinet. A moment later cool oil dribbled onto my lower back, and he smoothed it into my skin, coating his fingers with it. When he slid them down over my backside and pushed a finger into me, I was hard-pressed not to yelp.
    Ye gods! Ye gods and little fishes! That felt… oh! There. Just there.
    He held me still against him, keeping his fingers inside me, busily twisting and stretching, getting me ready. I parted my legs to give him more room. Well, of course I did. What that man was doing with his fingers had my entire body feeling as if he’d plugged me into an aether generator. His tongue licked and kissed its way around my jawline as he gently ground his hips against mine, rubbing our cocks together.
    “I won’t hurt you,” he promised.
    It was hard to concentrate enough to talk. “I know.”
    “Now?”
    “Yes. Definitely now.”
    One last kiss and he rolled me again, sliding to one side. He sat up with his back to the ornate headboard. Firelight danced down the line of his body. He smiled and held out his hand.
    Dear Lord, but he could do whatever he wanted with me. I took his hand and let him pull me to where he wanted me.
    “Here. Like this… oh Rafe. Here.” He spread his legs and pulled me to sit astride him, facing away, holding me in place. He guided me back onto his hard cock, laughing when I gasped at the sensation of it nudging at the cleft in my backside. When the blunt head found the entrance it was looking for, and the tight little ring of muscles caught and held him, he pushed forward in one strong surge. He didn’t hurt me. I was ready, and he slid in easily and smoothly.
    Ye gods and little fishes .
    He was big and hard, and he filled me the way I liked it. I groaned; I don’t scorn to admit to it. And I groaned more than once while he held me and gave me a moment to get used to the feel of him pressing up inside me. I leaned back against his chest. He rubbed his hard fingers mercilessly over my nipples and down my belly to envelop my cock, then grew more gentle as he stroked my balls and down between my outspread thighs.
    I couldn’t help but moan again.
    “When you’re ready, Rafe,” he said softly.
    I was ready. Oh heaven, but I was ready. I started to rock, rising and falling on his hard shaft, slowly at first, little movements that had him rubbing gently up and down the hot, tight channel inside me.
    It wasn’t a position lending itself to energetic and vigorous sex, but was gentle and restrained. I got my legs bent under me on each side of his—I was always limber—gaining leverage, and rocked back harder, rising on my knees and falling back. We groaned on each thrust. Edward bit at my neck and shoulders, little biting kisses and then little licks from a hot, wet tongue to take away the sting of the bite. His hands, fingers hooked, clawed their way up the inside of each of my thighs, from knee to groin, making me whimper. I confess it. A definite whimper.
    He didn’t move a lot, little thrusts of the hips to try and drive himself in deeper whenever I surged backward. I dictated the pace, slow at first, then quickening as the heat rose. He brought his hands once more down the skin of my inner thighs, smoothing and caressing away the sting of the earlier clawing, and once more enclosed my cock in them. This time he kept them there. His hands slick with oil, he pumped me, keeping the same rhythm as the increasing tempo of his thrusts.
    I had forgotten how good this was.
    I put my hands over his, holding them closer still as he mercilessly moved up and down the