Page 80 of A Contracted Spouse for the Prizefighter

“Here, though?” she repeated, faintly shrill.

“Unless you’d rather not.”

Clem tried to look unconcerned as she considered. Finally, she gave him a small nod. “But if I tell you to stop …”

“I will at once,” he promised, bunching her trailing skirts up to her knee and sliding a hand underneath. Thank God for loose-fitting drawers, he thought as his hand slid between her legs to cup her there. “Have I told you how much I love your hairy pussy, Dora?” he groaned. “I don’t think I could go back to a shaved one now.”

“Shaved?” she squeaked.

“Yes, shaved.”

“Some ladies do that?”

“Yes, they do.”

“They would not be popular at the cancan,” she said so seriously that Clem could not stop his shoulders shaking with laughter.

“Dora,” he whispered, passing his thumb through the curls covering her mons. Dora whimpered faintly and he lowered his head and fastened his mouth lasciviously to one of her nipples.

Dora jumped in his arms. “Clem,” she gasped as his fingers sought out her drenched folds.

“Oh fuck, Theodora I could just play with your nipples all night and be a happy, happy man. I love how wet it gets you.”

And that is precisely what he did for the next half hour. His fingers worked her expertly as Dora squirmed and held her breath, but every time he got her worked up to the point of orgasm, he would stop and concentrate on her breasts again until he thought the dangerous moment had passed. Then he would set his fingers to work again.

“Clem,” she panted after another attempt to wriggle where she wanted his fingertips, only for him to still them, thwarting her attempts.

“Yes, Dora?”

“Are you doing it deliberately?”

“Doing what?”

“Withholding my pleasure?”

“Oh yes, Dora mine.”

“W-why?”

“Sometimes it’s nice that way.”

“Nice for you or nice for me?” she forced out, her face turning very pink.

“For both of us,” he whispered in her ear. “If it feels a little frustrating for you, let me tell you how much I want to pin you against that wall right now and take you there, behind the curtain, but alas, I know I’m not as quiet as you.”

Dora glanced at the wall slightly desperately and then back at him. “You could try,” she suggested, and Clem’s grin broadened.

“You haven’t got your preventative in,” he reminded her.

“Oh yes,” she said looking so disappointed Clem could have kissed her. So he did. “Clem, I’m sorry,” she blurted, once he drew back, “but I don’t think I can do this for much longer.”

“Oh? Shall I let you come, then?” he asked lazily.

Dora’s expression wavered. “Is this a trick question?”

“Just ask me nicely.”

“Please Clem, let me come.”