“Do not,” she managed, though she had no notion what she meant him not to do. Stop? Speak? Smile? Breathe? Exist? She couldn’t manage the rest.Her hands scrambled for purchase: coverlet, bedpost, the rumpled edge of his sleeve. Anything.
Through it all, he stayed maddeningly calm, murmuring terrible things in a warm, velvety voice: “Such tension. Suchexquisite receptivity. I daresay the medical community has underestimated the female nervous system entirely…”
“Stop… talking,” she gasped, barely coherent. “Please, stop… talking.”
“I would,” he said, tilting the device just so, “but I am afraid patient feedback is critical for improvement.”
Her hands twisted in the sheets again and her back arched from the bed as pleasure crashed through her in fierce, helpless waves. She heard herself cry out, raw and entirely indecent as she convulsed, and somewhere through the storm of it she heard Jasper curse softly under his breath.
When it passed, she collapsed back against the pillows, breathless and boneless. She could barely remember her own name, let alone why she’d stormed into his house in the middle of the night.
Then, the machine gave another soft whir.
Her eyes snapped open. “What are you doing?”
Jasper’s smile returned slowly. “Ah. No, no. You see, with this particular condition, it is not uncommon for certain symptoms to persist.”
“Persist?” she repeated, sitting up on one elbow with what little dignity remained to her. “I have just been cured within an inch of my life.”
“Temporarily relieved, perhaps.”
“Jasper.”
“Relax,” he murmured, brushing her thigh with the back of his hand. “Lie back down. Let me finish the treatment properly.”
Lottie let out a breathless laugh that caught somewhere in her throat. She ought to refuse. She had already been reckless enough for one evening, perhaps for one lifetime.
The faint hum began again, and this time she did not startle so much as shiver.
Before she could protest—or compose a protest convincing enough to satisfy her pride—Jasper settled between her legs once more. There was less theatre in him now. His smile had faded into concentration, his breath not quite as even as before.
When the device touched her again, Lottie gasped aloud.
He did not tease as he had done the first time. He gave her just enough pressure to make her hips lift from the bedclothes, then held her there, suspended on the edge of sensation while his free hand slid higher along her thigh.
“Still furious?” he asked, voice rougher than before.
“Yes,” she said, though it was nearly a sob.
“Good.”
Just as she opened her mouth to curse him—or perhaps beg—his fingers joined the machine.
He moved slowly, curling one long finger inside her, and then another. When he found the place that made her go utterly still, his eyes darkened. “There,” he whispered. “Yes. I remember.”
“Oh,” she gasped, arching sharply. “Oh—God.”
Each pump of his fingers sent lightning straight up her spine. Her body was liquid and desperate beneath him. The machine hummed steadily against her over-sensitised peak while his fingers worked inside her with devastating patience, coaxing from her sounds she did not recognise and could not restrain.
“Oh—Jasper—ohGod—I cannot—”
“Yes, you can,” he said softly. “You are already there.”
Her hands clawed at the sheets. Her legs were shaking. Her body was slick with heat and desperation, and then he did something devastating: he kissed her inner thigh, slow and possessive, all whilst curling his fingers just right.
She shattered with a sound that was half sob, half surrender. The pleasure was brutal this time, shaking her to the very core. Her head tossed helplessly against the pillow, hair damp with sweat. Tears spilled freely from her lashes as her bodyconvulsed, her cries muffled only by the trembling of her own arm flung over her mouth. This second release came like a wave she was not sure she could survive: deeper, fuller, so powerful it made her eyes water as he worked her through it.
It took an age before her body stilled, and she could remember where and who she was. By the time he gently eased his fingers from her and turned the device off, she was utterly wrecked, and flushed from her breasts to her throat.
