“Evan!” Her hands clenched in his hair but neither pushed nor pulled. Her head lifted, and her eyes flew open to stare at him in astonishment.
He pulled back a fraction. “Yes. Watch me.”
She looked almost fearful, as she had when he had told her to close her eyes and imagine the acts he described. He was betting that she had not yet embraced how powerful sight could be in foreplay, despite her experience at the demi-monde party and here. Suspecting it might be the key to engaging her in a brief affair, he’d inserted the demand into their repartee deliberately.
Holding her gaze, he flicked the beaded point with his tongue before covering it again and taking deep pulls.
She gaped at him, breathing hard, but her stare was focused on his mouth and her nipple and she seemed unaware of his regard. Her tongue darted out to wet her lips, and her fingers clenched and unclenched against his scalp, as though fighting the urge to tug him closer.
Her innocence sent a bolt of lightning down his spine to his shaft. Even the most accomplished lovers had not caused such urgency, such need.
Yanking her dress and chemise farther down, he shifted his attention to her other breast and gave it the same treatment. Her rhythmic grasping of his hair prompted words inviting her to direct him. But if she hadn’t experienced a sexual pinnacle, she could not know what would get her there.
Next time. He barely refrained from snapping his teeth on the tip between them as his cock pulsed at that possibility.
Raising his head, he squeezed her breasts, circling the peaks with his thumbs, just as he had on her inner thighs.
Her hands fell from his hair to her sides, lax on the settee.
“I want to feel how wet you are for me, to slide my fingers through that deliciousness to your pleasure button that is even more sensitive than these,” he narrated, hoping it would fan her excitement into flames. “I want to taste your nectar on my tongue and ravage you as I did your breasts while my finger thrusts into your tight hot channel in a poor imitation of my cock.”
Her eyelids fluttered, as though she was unable to focus. She licked her lips, and her legs fell one more degree open.
Excellent. He took that as an invitation.
“Keep your eyes on me,” he said, his voice gritty. He lowered himself back to his heels and gazed at her center. Pearly moisture coated her folds, dark curls framing swollen lips even redder than those he’d already kissed.
His fingers traced her opening, becoming soaked in her arousal as he held her leg open with his other arm. Every woman liked a different touch, so he started feather-light, brushing a damp finger around the swollen bud protruding above her womanly passage.
She flinched. In pleasure, he hoped. He stroked more firmly.
She gasped, her hands rising as though to grab him but falling away. He pinched gently.
She reared up, eyes wide. “Oh my, what are you doing? What are you touching?”
So my lady Althea enjoys a bit of squeezing everywhere. His cock pulsed, reminding him it could do with a nice squeeze as well. But teaching tonight would garner him more gratification in the coming days if he could remain focused on her satisfaction.
“You, my dear. I am simply petting you. The way you should be caressed. The way you deserve to be touched. Have you not tried this yourself?”
“Yes, but ’twas never so sensitive.”
“This is what you’ve been missing. The key is to take it in small steps—a gentle touch first, then more firm.” He grinned, a surge of lust spearing through his bollocks. He could hardly wait to see her orgasm. “Now, watch the next step.”
****
Heat swirled through Althea at Evan’s direction. Spots of embarrassment warmed her cheeks as pleasure ignited low in her belly, but she watched as his head lowered to her most private flesh. She stared at him, enthralled.
Lud, what will a firmer touch do?
Contrary to his words, he leaned in and blew on her sensitive flesh, and as her hips jerked her response, he licked her nub into his mouth and sucked gently. One finger prodded her weeping center and slid inside.
She nearly bucked him off her. He’d told her what he was going to do before each new touch, yet each caress shocked her with the sensations it provoked.
If his finger can do that, I have to wonder how his cock would feel.
She reached out to him again. Threading her fingers through the golden mane that continually beckoned her touch, she hesitated, still uncertain what she needed.
He paused in sucking and licking to look up at her.
