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“You were too close.” The coarse answer required the least amount of thought. “Your mouth was level with my—”
Her eyes went wide. The deuce. Cock was far too coarse.
“My mouth?” She glanced to the side. Then she tilted her head and frowned. “But isn’t your man-part where you—”
“Do you ever cease thinking?” he interrupted. His man-part.
“No,” she answered.
He groaned in frustration. He would find a way to silence her mental chatter. Later.
“Pleasure,” he said, “specifically carnal pleasure, necessitates a certain...” Suspension of shame? Openness to oddity? “Fortitude,” he finished. Inadequate, perhaps, but not untrue.
Her brows went up. “I am all attention.”
“Less lecturing,”—he bent in for a kiss—“more demonstration.”
He kept her mouth busy, but her hands were only briefly still. A shudder ran through him as she worked her fingers beneath his trouser flap.
“Ah-hem.” He cleared his throat.
She raised her eyebrows. “I like to finish what I start.”
“Admirable.” He touched her chin. “However, allow me the chance to impress?”
She held him apart. “But I have all my clothes on.”
“I know.” He grinned. “I must have better self-control.”
She pursed her lip, placed her hand on his crotch and sweetly replied, “I beg to differ.”
The jolt from her hand—all heat and demand—sent a swift and powerful need straight to his groin. If he wasn’t careful, he would lose that chance to impress.
“Stop distracting me.” He teased her bottom lip. “May I remind you, I am the one doing the ravishing. Which, by the way, I can manage without removing your clothes.”
Fleetingly, she wore an expression of disappointment. “Might be a good idea.” She appeared to come around. “Considering that your mother’s maid helps me dress.”
“Considering.” His lips twisted in wry amusement. “You might have considered my plight before ruthlessly ruining my cravat.”
Her lips formed an oh.
“It’s a good thing I have a greatcoat that will cover the damage.”
She winced. “I’m sorry.”
“Are you?” he asked, mimicking her own tone when she was questioning him.
A soft smile bloomed on her lips as a playful spark danced within her eyes. “You’re learning.”
He was learning. He was learning all about Lenora. The real Lenora.
And he was about to put his understanding to excellent use.
Chapter Nine
Lenora stared, transfixed, as Asquith’s warm, steady gaze shifted. Beneath the fire of lust in his eyes, she saw a flicker of what she prayed was tenderness. He’d never looked at her that way before. And she didn’t want him to stop.
“Room.” He nudged her with his leg. “If you don’t mind.”
