“You want me to show you depraved.” He raised a brow in challenge. “I’m going to touch and kiss you wherever I want—and you’re going to see all of it.”
A spike of heat gathered in her core as Matthew removed histopcoat, then his undershirt, revealing the tanned, lean muscles on his chest. A dusting of dark curls trailed down to his navel, to the dip in his hips.
Instead of stripping completely, he kept his breeches on. He knelt down on one knee on the floor next to the bed and made sure her eyes were on his.
“Before we start, we need to set rules. You can always say no. If you don’t want it, I don’t want it.”
“I’ll stop you if I don’t like something.” She gave him a confident grin. “But I’ll trust you enough to try.”
“Good.” He smiled. “I’ll be worthy of that trust.”
She reached out and gently brought him close for a tender brush of lips. Then another. Unsure where to put her hands, she entwined them around his neck and held him close.
“What should I do?” she breathed.
“What I say, when I say it,” he whispered against her neck. His tone shifted, no longer light but masculine and deep. He brought her hands to his mouth, kissing her wrist, then her knuckles. “If you weren’t injured, I’d tie your wrists to the bedpost.”
She imagined being tied up, completely at his mercy. He could touch wherever he wanted, dowhateverhe wanted. Even enticed by the prospect, she raised a brow. “You don’t want me to touch you?”
“I’m only good for one round. When you touch me, the game ends.” He kissed her cheekbone. “But I can pleasure you for hours, and you have no idea what that will do for me.” Poised above her, he purred, “Now that you know the rules, are you ready to play?”
Diving in, she kissed him again. “Yes.”
Between them, Matthew unfastened her cloak and removed it from her shoulders, revealing her thin silk nightgown. His jaw slackened, his eyes widened, and he marveled at her.
Having come too far for modesty, Jasmine sat on her knees andlifted her nightgown over her head, baring herself to him. The peaks of her breasts pebbled in the night air, gooseflesh rippled over her skin, and her cheeksburned. For the slightest second, she felt inadequate. Embarrassed to be naked in front of him.
But those feelings evaporated when Matthew whispered, “MyGod, Jasmine. There aren’t words inanylanguage to describe the things I want to do to you.”
He pressed on her shoulders until she was on her back underneath him. He kept his kisses gentle, but his work-roughened hands mapped her, grazing along her back, her hips, and under her breasts. When she went to unbutton his breeches, he lifted her hands above her head.
“These stay here.” He held her wrists to the bed with a gentle squeeze.
Her frustrated groan turned into a whimper as he traced the curve of her breasts with his tongue. Tantalizingly slow, he sucked one peak into his mouth. She cried out. Toes curling, back arching, she leaned into his touch. Clutching at the bedclothes, she struggled to keep her arms above her head. He licked at her breast with the tip of his tongue, took her nipple between his teeth…
Andwaitedthere.
She writhed under him. “Matthew,please.”
Granting her reprieve, he soothed her with his tongue. Wrapping one arm around her, he lifted her by the small of her back, encouraging her to a seated position. Then he moved behind her, resting his back against the headboard. He spread his legs and patted the space between them as he had on the lawn.
“Are we going to do what married couples do?” she teased, settling in with her back against his chest.
“Many times over.” With both hands, he gathered her hair to fall over one shoulder and nuzzled into it, softly inhaling. “You always smell so good.” The cloth of his breeches scratched over her skin ashe adjusted, pressing his hardness into her lower back. “Put your hands behind my neck.”
Obeying, she braided her fingers together at the nape of his neck. The position stretched out her torso, leaving her on full display, aided by the mirror in front of them. Their gazes met in the reflection, and she watched his hands moving over her, keeping eye contact with her all the while. He splayed his hands over her hips, letting her get used to the feel of him.
“Have you ever touched yourself?” He continued his descent, rubbing his palm down her thigh. “Placed your hand between your legs and explored?”
“No. I’ve never—” she choked on her words as his fingers found the hollow of her hip. “Ladies don’t do that.”
“Youwill after tonight.”
He trailed his fingertip in, over the curls at the apex of her thighs, and up. Sliding over embarrassingly slick skin, he stroked right over a place so sensitive she instinctively tried to jerk away, but only pressed her harder into his chest.
“Too much pressure?” he whispered. “How about this?”
He gently grazed that spot again. Sparks formed behind her eyelids—brighter than the sunrise, darker than sin.
