“What now?” she asked.
He licked her ear. “I intend to make you come again.”
She gulped. “I don’t think I can.”
“Allow me?”
She moved her hands out of the way, placing them on the desk instead.
“Once more, at least,” he said as he rubbed her clitoris in a way that quickly brought her back up to the precipice. Then he withdrew his cock fully before slamming back.
She stiffened her legs to keep from collapsing. Being penetrated by him was already intense, but the way he moved was heavenly. She hovered at the edge, wanting desperately to experience that heady rush again.
“I’m…close,” she said between gasping breaths.
He increased the pressure on her clitoris with his thumb and began a steady rhythm, pulling out of her and then sliding deep. Her whole body felt like it were buzzing, ready to explode at any moment. Then he ran his teeth along her shoulder and before the pleasure robbed her of her senses, she realized what he’d done.
He’d actuallybittenher. Like a lion mounted on a lioness sinking his teeth into her scruff, except there was no pain. It was odd, but it bothered her less than she might have expected. If it pleased him—which it must have because a moment later, he groaned—then she would allow it.
Then something hot and wet dripped down her back. She reached over to wipe it away, only to have him grasp her hand and slam it back onto the desk.
“What is that?” she asked, craning her neck.
“Saliva,” he said. “I apologize. I’ll take care of it.” He ran his tongue along her skin.
That didn’t seem right. The liquid felt thicker than saliva. But before she could consider what else he might have dripped on her, he stepped away. A moment later, her cloak fluttered around her shoulders. She clutched it close and straightened, wincing as her back complained from having spent so long in one awkward position. She turned around. His eyes glowed in the darkness.
Impossible. She blinked, and he was smiling like a foolish schoolboy, irises back to their normal soft brown. But there was a tension about him that hadn’t been there a moment earlier.
“Good God,” he whispered.
A strange smell tickled her nose. Ashy and sour.
“Fire!” Cordon shouted.
She spun around and was greeted with the flickering light of a fire. The lantern had fallen onto the floor, where it had ignited scraps of fabric she’d failed to clean up.
She lurched into movement, stamping the flames with her bare feet, but the blaze had spread to the bolts lined up against the wall. She had failed to tell Alyssa to put them away because she’d been too absorbed in herself.
Then Cordon appeared at her side, holding the bucket of sand she kept under the counter for exactly this purpose. How had she forgotten? It was as if the moment she’d seen the fire, all rational thought had vanished.
He upended the sand, then he dropped the bucket and turned on her. “Are you hurt?”
Her legs felt prickly. She looked down. Her cloak was scorched. Cordon had fared better but was still covered in soot. But that wasn’t the worst of the damage. Nestled on top of the bolts that had caught flame had been several unfinished projects that should have been in the trunk at the foot of her bed.
She pushed him away and walked toward the smoldering, sandy bolts. The garments were blackened and stiff to the touch. She grabbed the first item, a day dress in patterned cotton, and held it up by the shoulders. It unfolded like a sheet of vellum, damaged beyond repair.
“Kitty,” Cordon said.
She put the dress back. Several days of work—gone. All because she had been so focused on her pleasure that she’d set aside her normal precautions. She couldn’t blame Alyssa; the girl was only an assistant. This was Kitty’s fault. It was bad enough that she’d forgotten to do the tasks in the first place, but she’d compounded her sins by returning with Cordon and forgetting everything she’d put off.
“Kitty!” Cordon clasped her shoulders and shook. “Do not fret. I can find someone to help you make the garments again.”
She dropped her chin to her chest. Of course he was offering to help, using his money to rectify a situation that she had inflicted upon herself. It would have been easy to agree and then return to her indulgent behavior. But that would make her just as bad as her parents, who let Kitty solve all their problems without a care for how much damage it did.
She couldn’t become like them. She’d made a mistake by focusing on herself, even for a day.
“No,” she said. “It’s too late to train someone else.” She heaved a sigh. “I’ll have Alyssa help me. It’ll mean some long nights, so…” She couldn’t meet Cordon’s gaze.
