Smex Scene Sunday

Heroine: Lady Euphemia Marlington. Held hostage in a harem for seventeen years, she is back in England and her embarrassed father is forcing her to marry.

Hero: Adam de Courtney aka The Murdering Marquess doesn’t want to get married again but is in need of an heir.

Can these two outcasts find a place with one another?

Adam was not accustomed to women wanting to make love in the broad light of day. In general, most of the females he’d bedded had squawked in terror at the first sign of light, locking themselves in their dressing rooms and not coming out until they were impeccably coiffed and dressed.

Small hands snaked up his thighs and stopped at the juncture of his legs, expertly taking him in one hand while she insinuated herself between his legs, one hand reaching up and shoving gently against his chest. “Lie back.” The order was muffled, but clear enough.

Adam fell back against the pillow. Maybe just this once? He couldn’t think of a good reason to go. After all, he’d already slept in her bed. Why not—his body jolted as she began stroking, his hips moving of their own accord.

What harm could it do?

Her expert touch sent him into an almost dreamlike state. She skillfully massaged his aching testicles while she stroked, the combination of sensations clearing any residual rational thoughts from his head. And then the wet softness of her mouth closed over him.

A groan tore out of his throat and he had to fight the urge to fist his hands in her hair and ram himself into her. But she didn’t need any assistance from him. She worked him ruthlessly, taking him deeper than he thought possible and bringing him all too quickly to the brink of a shattering orgasm before abruptly stopping. He stared at the canopy with unfocused eyes as a low, sensual laugh rippled from her wicked mouth through his taut body. And then she nipped the sensitive skin of his head and released him, crawling up his body until her head poked out from under the sheet. Adam lifted his head to look at her. She had an insufferably smug look on her face.

You are so impatient,” she gently chided him, the words a mockery of his own from last night. She wiggled around under the sheet until she’d adjusted herself to her satisfaction, straddling him and sitting up, looming over him.

“Now then, my lord. Have you been wicked?”

Adam groaned. This would kill him.

She lowered herself onto him—hard.

Adam gasped and his hands moved instinctively toward her hips, preparing to assist her.

“No,” she said, shaking her head and raising her eyebrows. “It is my turn.” Her tone brooked no argument.

Adam shrugged, compressed his lips into a bored frown, and laced his hands beneath his head. “As you wish.”

The look of naked sensuality on her face was almost more arousing than her rhythmic grinding. He willed away his orgasm, not ready to give up the heady sight of her riding him. As her flush deepened one small hand crept between her thighs and found the place that gave her so much pleasure. Adam didn’t think he’d ever been harder in his entire life as he watched her work herself while riding him.
Her other hand moved to her breast and stroked her erect nipples. Her back arched and her eyes closed and that was enough. He grabbed her hips and drove himself home.

She focused gaze as he pounded into her. “Come with me, Adam.”

Her words were the last straw and he convulsed against her with the sheer force of his orgasm, yelling out God-knows-what as he spent himself.

She laughed with breathless delight as she gave in to her climax.

Adam stared up at her as if poleaxed. He had never seen such a beautiful sight in his entire life. She was rosy and flushed, her glorious hair spiraling out in all directions. Her head fell back as if it were too heavy, her hands absently stroking her nipples before she dropped down beside him.

“Mm.” She snaked an arm around his torso and buried her head in his side. “I’m hungry. Can we have breakfast in bed, Adam?”

Adam laughed weakly. “You seem to be nothing but a collection of hungers.”