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As if he needed reminding. He stroked her hair. Her bun slipped to the side. He undid a few of the hairpins as she pressed her lips dead center on his chest. Her hair tumbled down. Her tongue touched his flesh. His breath hissed between his teeth. He dropped his good intentions like a hot potato. “I should be reminding you that things don’t always work out like we plan.”

She kissed her way to his navel. “But?”

“But I’ve never been that long on honor.”

“Uh-huh.” She dipped her tongue into his belly button. His stomach jerked inward.

“Hey! That tickles.”

She grinned. He could feel her lips stretch across his stomach. “Sorry.”

“You don’t sound sorry.” His hands, in direct contradiction to his words, were urging her to do it again.

“If you promise to be quiet, I’ll apologize.”

Her lips wandered further south.

“If you’re planning on what I think,” he croaked, “you’d best save your apologizing until I get a wall at my back.”

She shook her head emphatically. Her fingers worked the buttons on his denims. “You’re just going to have to stand tall, Mr. MacIntyre.”

The last button popped free. With a move he had no idea she knew, she slid his pants down his thighs. Her breath brushed his straining cock through his long johns, setting fires raging. “Because I’m not giving up until I get what I want.”

God help him, she sounded as stubbornly petulant as a kid refusing to leave a candy store. “I wouldn’t want to deprive you of something you like,” he countered.

Letting go of her hair, he unfastened the buttons on his longjohns. He wished he could see her expression, but she was staring hard at his hands, her hands on her thighs, her fingertips twitching as if she wanted to be doing the job.

When he had the last button on his fly free, he cupped the back of her head in his hand. With the other, he eased his painfully hard cock into the light.

“Oh, my goodness.”

He hoped that note in her voice was awe. With steady pressure, he urged her forward. Her breath reached him first. Warm and moist, it blew over the sensitive head in a sensual caress. The vertebrae in her neck were a delicate ladder beneath his fingers. The flesh under her chin, soft as down as he applied pressure, tilting her head back.

The look she sent him was questioning.

“I want to see,” he explained. From this angle, he wouldn’t miss a thing.

“How do I do this right?”

He couldn’t believe she was turning shy after taking the bull by the horns. “I don’t think you can do this wrong.”

She sat back on her heels. “You don’t think?”

“I’m as green at this as you.”

Her small smile told him that pleased her to no end. “Do you like it when I touch you?”

“He’d be mighty grateful.”

She ran two fingers down his shaft, stopping when they collided with his fingers.

“He?”

He shrugged. “Nothing that ugly could be female.”

“Oh, he’s not ugly.” She stroked him again, her voice as soft as her touch. A featherlight caress that had him gritting his teeth. She paused again when she reached his hand. “Does he have a name?”

He slid his hand over hers, showing her he liked a bit more pressure. “Johnny.”

“Why Johnny?”

“Cause when I was of an age to be naming things, he had a tendency to be always jumping up.”

He couldn’t believe how good her laugh felt against his skin.

She leaned forward and placed a chaste kiss on the tip of his cock. “Hello, Johnny.”

He shuddered as fire shot down his shaft and spread like a conflagration up his spine. Sheer pleasure drew his balls tight.

The smile she gave him left him in no doubt that she knew what she was doing to him. A drop of pre-come beaded the tip of his penis.

Elizabeth eyed it speculatively. “You liked that.”

“Yeah.”

His reward was a squeeze of her hand. “I could do it again.”

He had to struggle to find his voice. When he found the words, they came out as more growl than drawl. “We’d be obliged.”

This time, the kiss wasn’t so chaste. This time, she used her tongue, sweeping it around the swollen crest, lapping up all the creamy moisture she found there. When she pulled back, her expression was considering.

Though he knew he might regret it, he had to ask, “What?”

“You taste good.” She ran her tongue over her lips as if searching for more. The expressions that crossed her face traveled the distance from surprise to interest.

It was the interest that had him throbbing in her hand.

Shit! She was going to kill him for sure.

“What else would you like?” she asked.

Now, that was a loaded question. Another bead of come appeared on the head of his penis. As much as he loved the feel of her tongue lapping him with the delicacy of a cat, he had another fantasy he’d like played out.

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