Page 58 of The Hood and his Thief

“Perfect,” Ansel murmured, so low it might have been more for his own benefit than Rhosyn’s. Then, he proceeded to systematically drive her towards the brink of insanity, alternating dragging his teeth over her nipples before soothing over them with the flat of his tongue.

Rhosyn’s chin fell forward onto her chest and she whimpered. The wooden bar dug into her palms as she gripped it tighter, a throbbing starting in her core that she was helpless to do anything to relieve.

Seeming to sense her growing desperation, Ansel smirked against her skin before falling to his knees. He pressed a kiss to her lower belly as he undid her pants and dragged them down her thighs, soothing some of the feeling that she was going to vibrate out of her skin, which Rhosyn tried desperately to contain.

When he finally tossed her trousers over his shoulders and let his gaze rest on the apex of her thighs, a low curse escaped Ansel. “Your hair is even red here.”

“What color did you think it would be?” Rhosyn tried to retort, the bite completely drowned out by the urge to beg him to finally touch her there.

“Honestly?” Ansel pressed a kiss to her hip bone. “I tried not to think about it. Because I knew when I started imagining what it would be like to have you, I wouldn’t be able to stop. And up until yesterday, I never thought I’d get the chance to see you like this at all.”

Rhosyn’s breath stuttered as he drew his nose across the crease of her thigh. “But you hoped?” The question came out more desperate than Rhosyn wanted, but she had to know.

“Oh, how I hoped.”

The warmth that suffused her chest at his answer only registered for a moment before she arched her back in pleasure at the kiss Ansel planted directly over her sex. She tried to spread her legs to give him more access, but Ansel had other ideas. A broad hand grabbed her thigh, pulling it over his shoulder and leaving her completely open to him.

She squeaked in a most undignified manner, suddenly glad to have the bar for support as she balanced on one leg. Ansel chuckled against her heated flesh before returning to his task.

His tongue parted her in one long stroke, and suddenly it was all she could do to stay upright. He repeated the motion, finding a cadence that made her squirm. She tried to pull him closer to her with the knee draped over his shoulder.

When he sucked at the most sensitive part of her, Rhosyn’s standing leg gave out completely, leaving her nearly hanging from the trapeze above her. Ansel didn’t relent, throwing her other leg over his shoulder as well, leaving her supported only by her arms and his hands on her ass, spreading her open as his mouth did unspeakable things to her.

The peak of her pleasure was at the tips of her fingers, beginning to spark through her limbs. Desperately, she bucked forward, trying to herself against his face and finding she had no leverage as the trapeze she hung from wobbled.

Ansel pulled back, and Rhosyn whined high in her throat as the pleasure that had been about to crest over her dissipated.

“What did I say about just feeling?” he scolded, turning his head to nip the sensitive skin of her inner thigh.

With concerted effort, Rhosyn relaxed her hips, letting herself settle in his hands again. She was rewarded with a satisfied hum and a soft kiss to her inner thigh. Then, he began working her up anew, and Rhosyn fought every instinct to buck against him and chase her own pleasure. She squeezed her eyes shut, and her fingers grasped the trapeze bar so tightly it creaked, as if it might splinter in her hands.

Ansel worked her higher and higher until Rhosyn feared she might float away. Finally, Ansel sucked her flesh into his mouth once more, and she came undone with a voiceless shout. One of her hands let go of the bar to fist his hair, just to ground her to the man who had brought her such pleasure as she shuddered uncontrollably.

Unable to hold herself up with one arm as the pleasure started to ebb from her, leaving her boneless, she began to slide down. Ansel helped her, cushioning her descent until she straddled his lap where he kneeled on the floor, cradled to his chest.

She panted there, the spicy sweetness of him mixing with the heady rush of pleasure in an indelible mix in her mind. Mindlessly, she nuzzled into the “v” of skin visible on his chest, the rough fabric against her cheeks reminding her that he still had all his clothes on.

Now that Rhosyn was boneless with pleasure, she assumed Ansel’s request for her to just feel was fulfilled. She wanted to do much more than feel right now.

No sooner had her fingers slid under the collar of Ansel’s shirt, ready to feel the solid warmth she knew hid beneath, than a loud cough sounded from the door. Before Rhosyn had even registered they were no longer alone, Ansel dove forward, covering Rhosyn’s exposed form with his own, substantially more modest body. Rhosyn buried her face in his shoulder with a squeak, half embarrassment and half-surprise.

“Sorry, Boss… I—” Little John’s deep rumble sounded by the door along with some shuffling as if attempting to make a hasty retreat and stumbling over his own feet.

“You’ve already interrupted, John,” Ansel growled, his back hunched over Rhosyn protectively as she tried to cram herself into as small a ball as possible, to stay hidden beneath him. “Just spit it out.”

“I’ve made the arrangements you asked for and have all the volunteers gathered. They’ll meet you in the office.” John spat the words out as if it were a race before a swish of canvas and retreating footsteps indicated they had fled.

With a sigh, Ansel dropped his head to Rhosyn’s collarbone. It was a position of such abject defeat that Rhosyn couldn’t help but chuckle. The motion jostled Ansel’s forehead where it rested on her chest, and he began to laugh as well. Maybe it was the fizzling pleasure still running through her veins making Rhosyn feel light, or the shock of suddenly being discovered, but in a matter of moments, she had descended into full on cackles.

To his credit, Ansel joined her in her mirth, lifting his head and laughing along. His eyes crinkled at the corner as he smiled sheepishly.

“We should…probably talk.”

Rhosyn nodded in agreement. The heat of the moment had dissipated, and as humorous as the situation had suddenly become, reality was sleeping back in. She had chosen to join Ansel in uncovering Mr. Gower’s plots, but there was no guarantee of where they would stand once the issue was resolved. And there were still sponsored Talented to help to their freedom.

Bracing her hands on Ansel’s shoulders, she pushed him back lightly, and he went easily. His hands patted the floor around him until he located her clothing. She sat up and began pulling them on, trying to make herself look as unruffled as possible, although she knew it was a lost cause. Her disarrayed hair and crimson flush spoke volumes—not to mention that Little John would clearly know what had been happening between them.

Still, Rhosyn stood and arranged herself as best she could, but she couldn’t help the flutter that ran through her as Ansel wiped his still-glistening mouth with the back of his hand.