Free Defiant: 5 (Noble Passions) by Sabrina York Page B

did not stop her. Could not.
    He might rot in hell for it, but he did not stop her.
    Because she was tasting him.
    Her mouth, a velvet sheath, enclosed him. Her tongue,
questing and soft, dabbed at the tip of his cock and lapped. She made some
noise; it rippled through him in hellish shivers.
    “Ah, Sophia.” His fingers tangled in her hair, tightened.
She took him deeper. Warmth cascaded down his spine, trickling to his core.
Heaven. Hell. He could lie here, allow this until eternity came knocking on his
door. But then, he couldn’t. He would never last that long.
    She took hold of him, at the root of him, and added fiendish
strokes to her stimulating suction. He threw back his head and let the pleasure
wash over him. Mindless, delirious bliss swelled. A pressure built in his
balls, need clawed at his gut, the urge to explode rose within him, but he held
it back. He couldn’t, absolutely couldn’t release in her mouth. She was a lady.
A future princess, perhaps. He could not debase her like this, even though from
all appearances she was enjoying her work. He shouldn’t—
    Her fingers slipped lower, dancing over the hard nuts
between his legs. A new urgency shot through him like lightning. And then, when
she touched the tender spot a bit lower, when she dandled his pucker, he
seized. His body constricted and despite his determination to wrench away at
the very last minute, he was powerless to do so.
    Scalding delight swamped him as his crisis took him. She
murmured something, a dark rumble, and the vibration shot him higher. He
clutched her head and lost himself.
    She took him in. Every drop. And then lapped for more,
sending quivers and quakes along every nerve.
    “God, Sophia!” he cried, yanking her up his body, folding
her in a frenzied embrace. When he kissed her, he tasted himself on her lips.
It maddened him, pleased him, scorched him.
    “Did you like that, Ned?” she asked with a smile.
    “Like it?” He kissed her again.
    “I told you I was curious about the taste—Ned! What are you
doing?”
    She gaped as he pushed up the tails of the shirt, baring her
mons. “Hush, Sophia.” He lowered his head.
    He’d been curious as well.
    Edging lower, he opened her with his thumbs and stared down
at the most beautiful flower. She squealed when he lapped her, but as he
continued, as he licked and nibbled and sucked, her thighs parted more and she
began to sigh. And then moan. And then warble.
    He was careful not to enter her, though God he wanted to
thrust a finger in. Or two. Or something else. But he couldn’t. He wouldn’t.
That was one thing they would not explore. Though it nearly killed him, he
would keep her pure.
    She deserved better than a man like him. Whether her future
husband was an earl, a duke or fucking prince, he would not steal the choice
from her.
    She tasted so sweet; her arousal flowed over his tongue like
honey. And for all her innocence, she was the most passionate woman he’d ever
known. In the end when she neared the precipice, her legs clamped around his
head, her nails scored his scalp. She thrust up into his mouth. And when she
came, shivering and shaking and dousing him with cream, she cried his name.
    A tremendous satisfaction welled in his chest as he eased
back up to kiss her, to hold her again. He’d made her come. He’d shown her the
glory of passion and the thrill of carnal knowledge.
    He should be ashamed. He should be repentant. Knowing her
brother, he should be afraid. But he was not. He was proud. A little smug.
    Until he remembered—someday, someday soon, he was going to
have to let her go.
    He did not know how he would survive it.

Chapter Seven
     
    Sophia stared at Ned as he slept.
    What he had done… Oh, what he had done!
    When he’d brought her to completion the first time, with his
fingers, she’d thought surely there could be no greater pleasure. She’d been
wrong. The sight of his head between her thighs, the feel of his mouth working
her most tender