Her hand stilled. “Is that funny?”
“An unexpected change of topic, you must admit. And not the first time you’ve used the trick to shy away from answering my questions.”
“Well, you just refused to answer mine.”
“Did I? I suppose I did.” A novel experience, having this frank a discussion with a woman. “The answer is, I don’t know how I’d feel if you mouthed my nipples.”
“No one ever has?”
“No, and stop trying to get me to break my word. I told you I won’t speak of other bed partners. However”—he smiled slowly—“if you’re in the mood to be accommodating…”
He described, in vivid detail, exactly what he wanted. She stopped breathing.
“…If you did that,” he finished, “I’d feel beholden. Indebted.”
“Beholden?” Her hair passed like a curtain over his lower belly. “I’m intrigued.”
Yes. A bit further down, now. Almost. And there. A long, inarticulate sound tore from his throat. For the second time in the evening, he forgot how to inhale.
She was using her mouth on him…her mouth and both of her hands. The Blackbird—his Blackbird—learned quickly.
And then he lost the ability to form a coherent thought.
Who could think with a lady’s knees pressing into the side of his waist? With her hair tickling his stomach? With his tip engulfed in the softness of her mouth? With the lower part of his shaft being gently, repeatedly stroked?
Without warning—and just as he was about enter a state of pure bliss—she stopped.
“Dammit,” he rasped.
“Poor lordling,” she whispered against his ear. “So uncomfortable.”
He recognized the bastardization of his own words.
“Unlike you, I won’t promise to help. Not unless…”
“Unless?”
She hummed. He could almost hear her smiling. His head swam with disbelief. With need. Devil take her. He’d finish himself.
She caught his hand as he was reaching down. Her grip was surprisingly strong.
“The question is,” she purred, “what doyouwant?”
“I want you to finish what you started.”
“Do you? I might oblige…” her voice trailed.
“If?” he prompted.
“—ifyou beg me to do so.”
“Pardon?” He attempted to sit up.
She shoved him back down. Her fingernails bit into his wrist. Five tiny points of pain drawing his focus. He was furious. He was equally thrilled. Fascinated.
He dropped his head back into the pillow.
Behind the blindfold, all was darkness. But he pictured her there, kneeling at his side with her thick hair falling past her breasts. He pictured her there, a half-smile on the face he’d never even seen, waiting for his answer.
