The Debutante's Ruse by Linda Skye

hand on her curved backside, he shrugged off the garment as she pulled at his earlobe with her teeth. In response, he gently pushed a knuckle against her womanhood, eliciting a gasp of delight. As he slid his finger inside her, she whimpered in his ear. Grunting, he pulled himself free of his constricting trousers. His fingers stilled within her, and she rotated her hips pleadingly. He breathed darkly, and brought one of her hands down, guiding her fingers around him. Curious about the velvet stiffness in her fist, she looked down, and he groaned as she stroked experimentally.
    “You little minx,” he growled against her mouth.
    His large hand closed around hers as he showed her how to pump rapidly. When she mewled plaintively, he resumed his exploration of her innermost cavern with deft fingers. She bit down on his shoulder when her damp thighs trembled in a spasm of pleasure.
    All of a sudden, she found herself lifted from his lap and gently laid out onto the plush carpet. Henry climbed over her, his eyes wild with passion and his chest heaving. The muscles of his arms rippled as he dragged her shapely thighs over his naked hips.
    “I want to make you mine.” His voice was husky and rough, and his fingers trembled as they danced across her bare skin. He tentatively probed her entrance. “Are you ready?”
    At her tremulous nod, he leaned in to whisper in her ear, “Hang on to me.”
    She cried out and dug her blunt fingernails deep into his shoulder blades as he thrust deep within her, stretching her for the first time. Buried to the hilt, he paused and held himself painfully still. As he waited for her to adjust, he kissed away the stray tears that had collected at the corners of her eyes. He began to rock his body gently against hers, and she cried out in fevered pleasure. She twined her ankles around his waist as he drew her even closer, grunting his pleasure at her ear.
    But then he pulled away, and she cried out at the loss. He stood and shed the remainder of his clothing, then bent to tenderly hoist her upward. Hands on her shoulders, he turned her so that she faced the tall mirror. Blushing, she looked away.
    “This is yours.”
    Henry planted a line of soft kisses from her shoulder to chin, and then he draped the forgotten jade necklace over her collarbones and fastened the clasp at the nape of her neck. Isabella looked up, surprised, as the cool beads touched her skin.
    “Beautiful, isn’t it?”
    “Yes, of course,” Isabella breathed, fingertips hovering over the jade prize.
    “But not as beautiful as these.”
    His hands glided down and he cupped her breasts, rolling the dark beads at their tips between his thumb and forefinger. Isabella fell back onto his chest and shuddered with pleasure as his hands continued their downward exploration of her body.
    Spurred on by her soft moans of bliss, he splayed the fingers of one hand over her soft neck as his other hand explored the supple landscape of her body. He dropped to his knees behind her, leaving a ribbon of kisses down her spine. His questing hands cupped and pinched and kneaded until she was shivering with desire.
    “Look at us.” His voice was thick with raw need. “Look at how beautiful you are.”
    Isabella blinked her eyes open languorously. In the dim light, she saw her reflection in the mirror, naked but for the priceless necklace he had placed on her. His hands were dark against her creamy white skin, and they danced over her body and stoked a fire deep within her belly. When his fingers dipped into her heated core, she nearly wept in blissful agony. A lusty chuckle filled her ear, and he dragged his hands from her hips up to her hair. He shook the pins from her dark locks, watching hungrily as her thick hair fell in curls around her shoulders. With a sensuous glide of his hands, he pushed her down and forward onto her hands and knees, curving his heated body over hers and trapping her within the cage of his muscular limbs.
    She is so