Page 36 of The Consolation Prize

He gazed at her a moment. “Sometimes actions speak louder than words.” Una’s eyes darted uncertainly over to the bed. Did he mean she should simply climb into bed to await his pleasure? As if guessing the way her mind was working, he said softly. “Come and sit on my lap, Una.”

She pushed back her chair at once and rounded the table. Once she had sat square in his lap, his arms came around her and he looked full into her rather hot face.

“I like this shift,” he said, his eyes dwelling on the tops of her breasts. “It shows off your womanly form to perfection.” He paused a moment. “And I can see the outline of your pretty, dark nipples underneath.”

“Northern shifts are more fitted than Southern ones I find,” she answered, dimly aware her words had not precisely struck the same chord as his.

“You weren’t wearing a shift when I woke that first night and you had to fetch me a basin,” he continued smoothly. “You were entirely naked. I noticed it particularly.”

“I was wearing one when I was put to bed,” she answered awkwardly. “But you—”

“Yes?”

How could she possibly say out loud that he had wanted to fondle her breasts? She stared at him tongue-tied and miserable.

“Just say it,” he recommended, his hand hot and heavy where it rested on her thigh. “I like a woman with a bold tongue in her head.” He squeezed her thigh. Then a sudden cloud passed over his expression. “Unless you’re about to say I ripped it off you,” he said, looking suddenly apprehensive.

“Nothing of the sort!” she hastened to assure him. “I pulled my straps down for you, you see …” She was breathless now and anxious to dispel his fears. “You wanted … um … that is you seemed to want …” She shut her eyes so she could no longer see his expression. “I was under the impression you wanted to touch my breasts.”

“I’m sure I did,” he rumbled back. “So you pulled your straps down for me, did you, sweetheart? I wish you would do so again.”

Una’s eyes sprang open. Far from looking annoyed or bored with her, Armand’s gaze was fixed on her with searing intensity. She reached for her straps and pulled them down, peeling the filmy material from her generous breasts, so the shift bunched at her waist. Armand made a growling sound deep in his throat, and Una’s gaze darted to his for reassurance.

His eyes were hooded now, and she would think him sleepy, if they did not gleam so. “What did I do last time?” he asked huskily. “Tell me.”

Una swallowed. To her memory he had pawed and slurped at her bosom before practically falling asleep face-first in it. However, she had a strong suspicion this would not go down well. “You … er … said you wanted a taste,” she admitted, scarlet-faced.

Again, he made the growling noise in his throat and Una felt something stirring beneath her bottom. “I bet I did,” he said thickly. “What about you, did you like it?”

Una cast her mind back. “Yes,” she admitted with slight surprise. That part she had not minded at all.

Suddenly one big hand was cupping her left breast, lightly squeezing it. “You’ve a fine pair of … breasts, princess,” he said in a gravelly tone. She guessed he had been about to use a ruder term, and then gave a gasp when it dawned on her what he had called her.

“You must not call me that, Sir Armand,” she blurted, as he lowered his head to her breast.

“Ah, but you keep calling me Sir Armand, and I have to cure you somehow,” he answered with a wink.

She had just drawn in a breath to point out that her words were not considered high treason, when he sucked her nipple into his hot, wet mouth, and her mind turned blank. His other hand slid from her outer thigh to her inner and then considerably higher, until Una whimpered to feel his fingers slipping through her nether curls, to that which they concealed.

He released her breast with a lascivious lick. “Delicious. Did I not touch you here before, princess?” he asked and though his tone was teasing, she could hear a thread of real concern running through his voice as he ran his thumb gently up and down her slit. She bit her lip and shook her head, and he cursed softly. “Draw your knees up, Una. There’s room on this chair. Rest them against the arms.”

Una regarded him aghast for a minute that he would expect her to splay legs open in such a fashion. When he continued to her wait expectantly, she drew up her legs and rested her bare feet on the edge of the seat.

“Good girl,” he praised her again, bunching up the skirt of her shift and urging her back against his front. “Now spread your legs for me, princess.” His other hand cupped her right breast, kneading and squeezing it until her nipple ached. Slowly, Una did as he asked and rested her legs against the arms of the chair.

Armand groaned. “I wish we had a long mirror against that wall,” he said throatily. “So, I could enjoy the view.” Una gasped as her mind reeled at such a lewd idea. His fingers had dipped right inside her now and were tracing so very lightly over her private places, that when he pinched hard on her right nipple, she bit back a cry at the contrast.

To her surprise, she felt an answering pulse in her core, and suddenly Armand’s fingers felt slippery and wet as they delved and toyed with increasing boldness into her most secret feminine place.

“Ah, Una,” he whispered. “This is how I should have treated you that night, how a princess deserves.”

His words were complete nonsense, but for some reason she was shifting in his lap now, restless and biting her lip to stop from sobbing. She knew for definite now what was pressed so firmly against her bottom, but she didn’t care. Parts of her body that had felt purely functional before, were now quivering with new awakened life that astonished her. He released her right breast and returned to her left, plucking that nipple too in a manner that made her writhe against his hardness.

“Such a pretty color,” he muttered. “Like ripe berries. That’s right show me where you like to be touched,” he murmured. “Sweet Una.”

Suddenly his thumb between her legs passed over something that made her lose all the breath from her body and stiffen in his lap. He did it again and Una cried out incoherently. “That’s it,” he praised her, now circling his thumb over the same spot in a sweet, agonizing torment. “Keep your legs open, don’t fret. I won’t stop until you’re there.”

Again, his words meant nothing to Una, but she realized her shaking legs were trying to close over his hand. Not to stop him, she realized with dim shock, but to keep his wicked hand where she wanted it. With an effort, she widened her knees again. Her breasts heaved from the sheer force of effort, and he rewarded her exertions by squeezing each of the full globes firmly in turn.