explore through the gauzy material, rubbing a fingertip along her labia and between, trying to push up into her even with the cloth in his way.
He closed his hand over her sex and squeezed. Any moment now he would bite right through her shift. He definitely would not be as gentle with her as Henry had been. Gasping, she urged him to try the other breast. With more tenderness.
The moment his tongue wound around her taut, neglected left nipple and drew upon it gently, she climaxed in a rush that took them both by surprise.
Lifting his mouth from her breast, he studied her face as she felt the blood heat the surface of her skin.
His hand quickened between her legs and then went still. She knew he must feel her juices wetting the thin material. Before she had fully regained her wits, he was on his knees to investigate, lifting her shift to her waist. Emma leaned back against his work bench, needing it to hold her up. Her knees were weak after such a powerful orgasm. Of course, she’d occasionally given herself that pleasure over the past few years, but nothing compared to having another hand do it for her.
Raedwulf’s mouth sought her pussy, his big hands pressing her thighs apart. She held her breath as his tongue darted up between her nether lips. She was so sensitive there, she knew she could peak again with very little stimulation. And Raedwulf’s exploring tongue—thick and long as certain other parts of his anatomy—was no little stimulation.
* * * *
Lead by curiosity and his own instincts, Wulf lapped at the woman’s warm, wet slit. It was a taste he hadn’t expected to like, but he did. He was roused again already, so soon after spending in her mouth. He ran his hands down the back of her trembling thighs, trying to soothe her as he would a frightened stray put into his care, but he knew his hands were rough and callused. There was nothing he could do about his hard-worked hands and she’d have to grow accustomed to his touch. He pressed his mouth to the pink, fragrant folds and ran his tongue over them, between them, closing his lips to suck and kiss at that little mouth in the same way as he had done to the other—the one that gave him instructions and talked to him about duty.
Duty.
This didn’t feel or taste much like duty to him. He stiffened his tongue and thrust it inside that pretty haven. Wulf heard a series of tiny, hiccupping cries from above and her hips rocked; her knuckles turned white where they held they edge of his workbench. Deeper he went, flicking his tongue inside that narrow valley with its soft, pulsing walls, gathering her sticky honey. His feet shifted on the dusty floor, his grip tightened around her thighs to keep her still.
“Raedwulf! Oh…yes…no…stop…yes... Raedwulf!”
Since she couldn’t seem to make her mind up, he chose not to pay attention; instead he continued without pause, steadily eating that sweet, creamy sauce out of her. The more he suckled, the more it seemed to flow, until his mouth and chin were wet with it.
His wife-to-be let out a shrill scream and her feet came up off the floor, her legs over his shoulders. She fell back across his workbench, keening wildly as if she was in pain. And as her hips rode his mouth, he felt her inner walls close around his tongue like a sleeve with the laces suddenly pulled tight. On his arm it would have hurt, cut off the blood. On his tongue it felt good, because he imagined the same sensation on his cock.
This was, after all, one of the places he could fit it apparently. Although he had no earthly idea how, considering her dainty size and his great, clumsy awkwardness.
Emma finally went limp, her bare heels dangling against his flanks.
Well, that seemed to have had some effect. Good or bad he didn’t know yet.
He looked up cautiously, her thighs still resting on his shoulders. “Are you alright?”
No answer.
Very carefully, he set her feet to the floor, stood, gathered her hands in his and drew her