Page 43 of How To Tempt A Bodyguard

"Sorry," he gritted out. "I'll try to stay still."

"Don't." She looked up at him, and the heat in her eyes made his stomach clench. "I want to know what makes you lose control."

Then she lowered her head and took him into her mouth.

His vision went white.

She was clumsy but the clumsiness didn't matter. What mattered was the wet heat of her mouth, the tentative swirl of her tongue, the way she hummed with what sounded like satisfaction as she tasted him.

"Christ, Florence." Her name came out strangled as he tangled his fingers in her hair.

She pulled back slightly, looking up at him. "Good?"

"So bloody good. Do it again." His tone was pleading, desperate. Didn't care. "Make that noise again."

She swirled her tongue around his tip, moaning with satisfaction. Then she took him deeper, gagged slightly, pulled back, tried again. She was learning the limits of her own throat, figuring out what she could take, and the sight of it made his cock swell. Her hand wrapped around what her mouth couldn't reach, stroking in counterpoint.

Matthew gripped her hair and guided her rhythm. “Yes, just like that. That’s perfect,” he rasped.

She glanced up at him, her big violet eyes wanting to please him, her pink lips stretched around his thickness, her mouth full of his cock. It was the most erotic sight he’d ever laid his eyes on.

Her tongue then did something on the underside of his shaft that made his hips buck.

"Christ, Flo…"

"Is it still good?" She pulled off long enough to ask, her lips swollen and wet. If he wasn’t so aroused, he would have burst out laughing.

"Perfect,” he rasped. “Now bring back those pretty lips of yours, so I can fuck them."

She swallowed his head once more and began to pump her hand in conjunction with her mouth. He thrust up into her, and she moaned around him, a vibration that shot straight to his spine.

"God, you’re so pretty like this…"

With his hand in her hair, he thrust into her, again and again, hitting her soft throat, feeling his seed leak as her tongue swirled to lick it.

A wagon rattled past in the opposite direction. Matthew's eyes snapped to the window, tracking it until it disappeared behind them. Just a farmer's cart. No threat.

He looked back down at Florence. Her lips stretched around him, her cheeks hollowed, her eyes closed in concentration, and he felt his release building at the base of his spine.

"Florence, I'm close. So close."

She didn't pull away. If anything, she took him deeper, her hand working faster, her mouth hot and eager.

"I want to fill your mouth with my come, Flo."

She looked up at him. Met his eyes. And sucked harder.

He came with a shout he couldn't muffle, spending himself down her throat in hot pulses. She swallowed, her throat working around him, even as he drove into her.

When he finally pulled out of her, limp and spent, she wiped her mouth with a kerchief. Her lips were red and swollen, her chin was glistening, and she looked up at him with an expression of pure satisfaction.

"Was that acceptable?" she asked. "For a first attempt?"

Matthew stared at her. His heart was hammering. His cock was still twitching. His entire body felt like it had been turned inside out.

"Get up here," he growled.

She rose, and he pulled her onto his lap, crushing his mouth to hers. He could taste himself on her tongue. She melted against him, kissing him back with clumsy enthusiasm.