Quinn's Undying Rose

He took them and gently moved them to her sides. “Never hide yourself from me. Beauty like yours should never be hidden.”

Moments later, she lay on her back on the bed with Quinn slowly untying the strings of her drawers. Her hand clamped over his, making him look at her face.

“I’m scared.”

He pressed a kiss on her hand. “I am too.”

“You are?” Her eyes stared at him, wide and surprised.

“Yes, because if I can’t pleasure you, if you don’t enjoy what I’m going to do, I will lose you. And I can’t lose you. I need you, Rose.”

A relieved smile spread on her face and all the way to her eyes. “If you do anything close to what you do to me when you kiss me, I’m certain I will enjoy it.”

Her words made his heart stutter. Was she telling him that she found his kisses arousing?

“Tell me what you feel when I kiss you.”

Her eyes closed half way. “I get this warm feeling. All warm and . . . tingling.”

“Where? Where does it tingle?” he urged her.

Rose pulled her lower lip between her teeth and that action alone brought him to the brink of release. How much longer he could hold back before he had to thrust his hard cock into her, he didn’t know.

“There,” she whispered almost inaudibly, hesitantly moving her hand lower, releasing his and bringing it to the apex of her thighs. “There.”

A moan escaped him at the knowledge of what his kisses did to her. Because they did the same to him.

“I can do more than just make you tingle there,” he promised and slowly moved her drawers over her hips, revealing her most secret place, then pulling them down her legs. He discarded them carelessly and quickly looked at what he’d unveiled.

The canopy that guarded her sweet cunny was a dusting of blond curls, barely hiding the rosy flesh beneath. The scent of her arousal wafted to him, enveloping him in a cocoon of desire and lust. He’d been with other women, sown his oats, but never before had the scent of a woman caused him to lose his senses as with Rose.

He tore his shirt from his torso, perspiring at the mere thought of what he was about to do.

“I will cherish this, cherish you,” he whispered, spreading her thighs as if he’d done so a thousand times before.

Then he sank between her legs, lowering his head to her sex.

“What are you—?”

But he cut off her surprised question by placing his lips onto her soft curls and soaking in her intoxicating scent.

“But you can’t . . . ” she tried to protest, her voice dying with a moan before it came to life again. “Surely, this is not proper.”

He lifted his head for a moment and unleashed a satisfied grin. “Oh, my love, but it is very proper. A man who doesn’t want to eat his wife’s sweet cunny, is a Philistine. He has no sense of taste or pleasure. And I pride myself on both.”

With a moan, he brushed his lips against her sex and took his first lick. His tongue swiped over her nether lips, those plump folds that glistened with her desire, and carried her taste into his mouth. Her nectar was sweet and tangy at the same time, so many different flavors bursting in his mouth in a symphony of delight. Ah, yes, she would be a wonderful wife, one whose bedchamber he would visit nightly. In fact, he didn’t see the need to have his own bedchamber. He would simply move into hers, sleep with her in his arms every night. A shocking proposition, yet one he hoped she would agree to.

When he felt her twist under his mouth and heard soft moans and sighs—hers not his—fill the small chamber, he knew that he could give his sweet Rose a night to remember. Taking his time, he spread her legs wider, opening her folds, testing and tasting, exploring her, never neglecting the bundle of flesh that sat just at the base of her curls. Her pearl was engorged, red and swollen, and with each lick he delivered, with each swipe of his tongue over the sensitive organ, she issued sounds of pleasure.

Her naked breasts heaved, her breaths coming in short pants, and her skin started to glisten, a thin sheen of perspiration spreading over her entire body, evidence of the heat that was building inside her. The same kind of heat that was inside him, ready to burst to the surface.

His cock pulsated angrily against the flap of his trousers. He tried to ignore it as best he could. First, he wanted to give her pleasure. And he could only do that as long as he kept his own lust leashed. Once his cock was thrusting into her, there was no way he could keep the passion inside him under control. He would pound into her like a wild animal, unable to see to her pleasure. He’d desired her for too long to destroy this perfect moment with haste, despite the fact he was starving for her.