What She Craves. Lacy Danes
womb.
“Better, sweet?” He leaned forward and gazed into her eyes.
Good God, she was a wanton. One lick and she spent for him.
His finger traced the line of one of her tears. “Can you take more, Hannah?”
All she could do was nod.
“I’m going to make you scream twice as hard. It is the most beautiful sound.” His voice was a raspy choke.
She nodded again, wanting his hard prick to fill her, to stretch her and make her release.
He leaned back, grasped her bum in his hands, and swirled her blissful place with his tongue. Her whole body trembled, and the muscles in her womb tightened. Good Lord. Each stroke of his tongue probed and laved her slit, tightening her muscles lick by lick.
She couldn’t stay still; she needed to touch him. Her hands wandered to his hair and let the mass of tangled strands run though her fingers. A deep groan came from between her legs, vibrating her sex. The bliss built higher.
He braced his shoulders against her knees, spreading her wider. Touches ran down the curve of her bum and into her slit, parting her flesh so his tongue could explore. His tongue worshipped the lips, the blissful place, and the space before her bumhole.
Her hips arched and wiggled as she tried to get him to enter her. With the next lick, his tongue pressed in.
“Oh God, Kenny!” Her body arched off the grass, and she screamed, locking him to her as he probed in and out through each contraction. She collapsed in exhausted bliss as he lowered her bum back to the earth.
Kenneth shifted, spreading her creamy white thighs. So full of life. So full of passion. He couldn’t wait to sink into her and make her scream again. As her eyes fluttered open, he grinned. “Sweet Hannah.” He had dreamed of this, and so far the act surpassed his maddest dream. His cock strained and he placed the tip at her slick wet cunt.
“Well, well, what have we here?”
Hannah screeched and tried to roll onto her side, away from the intruder’s voice.
“Go away, Rupert,” Kenney growled, and pinned Hannah to him.
“Tsk, tsk, I thought we all shared.”
“To the devil,” Kenneth said, and Hannah buried her face tight into the pit of his arm. He glanced down at her trembling in his arms. He would not give up her identity. He shook his head. Cursed again.
“Well, if you aren’t willing to share, our company has started to arrive, and I know they won’t mind.”
“Leave, Rupert,” he said through clenched teeth. Damn him and his blasted curiosity.
Rupert laughed. “Sure will, chap. Sure will.”
The sound of crunching leaves and grass signaled his retreat.
Hannah pushed hard against Kenny’s chest. He sat back so that she could sit as well.
“Is he gone?”
Kenny realized she was not about to let this continue, not now. Fuck Rupert. He couldn’t blame her. He stared at the clearing where Rupert walked into the trees.
“He’s gone.” His cock throbbed, longing for the slickness of her heat. He shifted and cringed. He would be sore after this. Bloody hell. Rupert would pay. He hadn’t held in a spend in years.
“Hannah.” He reached out and cupped her face, trailing his thumb along the swollen lips of her mouth. “God, Hannah. This is too much like last time.”
“I know.” She smiled. “I’m sorry, Kenny. I have to go. I have been away much too long.” She scrambled to her feet, her dark blue dress falling in a swoosh around her pale white legs.
Grrr. Legs he had almost wrapped around his waist in blissful fucking.
His cock throbbed again at the memory of her mouth sucking the very essence from him.
“Kenny.” Her expression pained as she stared at his rampant erection. “I—”
He clasped her waist and crushed her to him. His face buried in her breast, he inhaled the smell of her again.
“I know, sweet. Go. I’ll be fine.”
She pulled from his arms, turned, lifted her skirts, and ran off in the opposite direction from Rupert. He watched her go as she darted into the trees.
Hannah. He knew she was married. His muscles clenched. She was no virgin, and Lady Hannah would never have given that up without a vow. But who was she married to?
Bloody hell, she was on her way home to a man who would have every right to fuck her as she walked in the door. A growl ripped from his throat. The thought of another man sinking his cock into her after…Shit. Shit! His fists clenched.
He couldn’t let her go now that he found her, husband or no. He would bed her. And what would bring her to him? The masque. The party Rupert and he worked so hard to pull together. Rupert would know who she was; he knew every woman in the vicinity. Surging to his feet, he picked up his coats, tucked his cock in, and headed to the manor. He would send her an invite, and sweet Hannah would be too curious not to come.
3
Anticipation
Mr. Rupert Roland and Friends Invite
Mrs. Hannah Rosworth to Attend a Masked Evening of Beauty and Sexual Intrigue This Thursday at Nine in the Evening. Costumes are required but please leave all proper clothing and morals at the door.
Mr. Rupert Roland
No respectable lady would consider attending this event. Hannah’s hands shook, clutching the invite as she ascended the stairs to the great manor. She didn’t care. Society didn’t see her as proper. She was an outcast. It didn’t matter that her father raised her to be a proper wife. A lady by all standards. They saw her through suspicious eyes. Eyes that condemned her the moment Simon died and no one but her was there to blame. This was her chance to mingle with those in society who had somehow gained the ton’s scorn.
The event appeared a normal masque. No naked men stood on the stoop. No strange erotic decorations. But she didn’t know what she had expected.
The guests arrived wearing heavy cloaks and masks. The footmen all dressed in the Brummelton livery of red and black. Not a hint of human flesh anywhere. She frowned with disappointment. Inside would be different.
A line of guests at the top of the steps brought her to a halt. How odd. Only one guest or couple entered the manor at a time; then the door would close, reopening after a few moments, allowing the next guest to enter.
Her heart pounded. What lay behind those doors was not a normal masquerade but a sexual one. She gulped. She would enter next into the world of the erotic unknown. Her stomach fluttered and she smiled. Tonight she would learn more than she ever thought possible, with a man she’d thought she’d never see again in her life.
The door opened. She hesitated. Go on, you ninny. Straightening her shoulders, she stepped into a small entry hall, and the doors closed behind her. A single candle lit the small space. Blast, she could barely see.
“Good evening.” A man with dingy hair came out of the shadows. She jumped and gooseflesh pricked her skin.
His cheeks were sunken, and he held out a crooked hand. “Your cloak.”
Goodness, he looked dead. His gnarled knuckles clutched the air as he waited for her to turn. He is not about to hurt you. Give him your cloak. Relax. He is just the butler.
She glanced around the enclosed entrance. No one else resided in the room. Shadows played across the floor, and her knees trembled. Think about Kenny. You will be with him soon.
With shaking hands, she untied the ribbons that held her cloak together. The butler’s bony fingers dug into her shoulders as he lifted the