She inhaled deeply. “Only a little.”
He touched her at waist level. “And here? Does this hurt?”
“It feels tender. He hit me there also.”
“The scrawny one. He’ll die, as soon as I can identify him.”
“Yes, and I’ll be the one to—oh.”
His fingers slid over her bottom and fire blasted through her. She gripped the chair back, and he tugged her bottom against him.
Oh, God. She’d seen the outline of his erection earlier tonight and now she couldfeelit.
“Fox.” She had no breath to say more. One of his hands, with those artist’s long fingers, had curled round her and was threading that warm thatch of hair at her center.
She gasped.
He froze. “Am I hurting you?”
She shook her head.
One arm pulled her to him. He nuzzled her neck, kissing and licking in a flurry of sensation that drowned out any aches. His other hand stayed busy, stroking, sending liquid heat through her. He backed them to the bed, and seated himself, pulling her onto his lap and taking one of her breasts in his mouth.
That busy hand flattened against her sensitive nub and a finger slid into her.
She touched his arms, his shoulder, his back. She raked her fingers along the soft hair of his arm, through the fuzz of his chest, along the prickly stubble covering his jaw.
The tension built higher. She clutched at his shoulders, reaching for something, in an agony of feeling, and—
Pleasure exploded in her and she gripped tightly while it pulsed.
Oh, oh, oh. She squirmed and gasped and settled.
He’d gone still as a statue, his finger still nestled inside her, his forehead pressed to her shoulder.
So this was it.
Now she understood. When women whispered about marital pleasure,thiswas what they meant. Not just the kissing and touching, which were wonderful, but…a woman would do much for this kind of pleasure. And men—no wonder the unhappily married members of thetonchased each other shamelessly.
Fox lifted his head, his face in a grimace.
This she’d heard whispered about also—a man engorged for too long was a man in pain.
She couldn’t bear to leave Fox in pain.
She slipped to the floor in front of him, ignoring her scraped knee, and reached for his buttons.
He pulled at her hands. “No.”
His tone was as hard as his cloth-covered rod.
Tracing a finger down his length, she watched his jaw tighten.
He squeezed her hand. “We’ll not go there tonight.”
“But you’re—”
“I’ll not ruin you any more than I have, Perry.”
