The Master's Mistress by Carole Mortimer

nudging her legs apart so that he could move up onto his knees between them to look down at her nakedness.
    Elizabeth moistened her lips with the tip of her tongue, her hips rising in invitation as her gaze remained riveted on the jutting hardness between Rogan’s muscled thighs.
    She cried out, her startled gaze rising to Rogan as she felt his hand glide smoothly along her inner thigh. She could see the dark passion in Rogan’s eyes as he looked down at her bared thighs, knowing by the wild gleam in them, and the flush beneath his hard cheekbones, how aroused that made him feel.
    Elizabeth cried out again as he touched lightly between her thighs. She was so swollen there, so aching and aroused that she knew herself to be balanced on the very edge of climax.
    Rogan’s gaze was hot, scorching, as he felt Elizabeth’s instant response when he slowly parted the silky auburn curls, baring that pulsing nub. He used one finger to lightly stroke around, above and below that arousal, without quite touching it, drawing out Elizabeth’s pleasure as she groaned and whimpered and writhed her hips in search of that caressing finger.
    Rogan pushed her legs even wider apart so that he might caress her lower still, instantly feeling how she opened for him as he stroked the swollen entrance and found her hot and slick with need, her hips arching upwards in a plea for release.
    A soft scream escaped her parted lips as Rogan dipped the tip of his finger inside her wet and creamy tightness, her muscles convulsing greedily about him, the soft panting of her breath telling him how very close she was to exploding.
    ‘Not yet, Elizabeth!’ Rogan slowly withdrew his fingerto resume his playful caresses. Around. Above. Below. Never quite touching…
    He continued those tantalising caresses even as he lowered his head to her bared breast, once again drawing hungrily on her nipple, groaning low in his throat as he felt Elizabeth’s hands become entangled in his hair as she held him to her.
    ‘Please, Rogan!’ she cried out restlessly, desperately, as her fingers tightened painfully in his hair. ‘Please…!’
    ‘Say it again, Elizabeth,’ Rogan groaned against the moist heat of her nipple. ‘Say my name, damn it!’
    ‘Rogue…?’ she breathed raggedly.
    ‘Yes!’ he rasped. ‘Say it, Beth. Say it!’
    ‘Rogue, Rogue, Rogue…!’ Her cries became a gasping litany as Rogan kissed his way slowly down the flatness of her stomach, over the smoothness of her hips, until he reached those damp, fiery curls between her legs, when that cry became another scream as he placed his lips about her and then stroked his skilled tongue against the throbbing centre of her desire.
    Elizabeth arched up to that stroking tongue as ecstasy ripped through every part of her, threatening to shatter her into a million pieces. Her muscles convulsed in an endless release as Rogan continued to pleasure her, until Elizabeth finally collapsed back weakly, completely sated.
    The moment the coldness of the rock touched Elizabeth’s back, she was brought back to the reality of where she was, who she was with, and what had just happened.
    ‘I’ve always found regret to be a wasted emotion,’ Rogan murmured dryly some minutes later, when Elizabeth made no effort to lower the arm she had draped over the top of her face.
    As if not being able to see him would make all that had just happened go away!
    Which was pretty ridiculous when they were both still completely naked…
    Rogan moved up to lean on his elbow, looking down at her. Her breasts were slightly red from the rasp of his early-morning stubble, the nipples still engorged and dusky pink from the ministration of his lips and tongue, and those fiery curls between her legs were damp from her recent release.
    He drew in a shaky breath. ‘Beth—’
    ‘I don’t want to talk about this now!’ Elizabeth snapped fiercely, lowering her arm so that she could glare up at him.
    ‘Or ever?’ he guessed