Page 86

She would have thrashed if thrashing had been possible, but he’d crowded her up against the wall. Still, he suckled and flicked and edged until she thought she could take no more.

But what was she to do? She was hemmed in by his muscle, and the wild sensations caged inside had no outlet but to burrow deeper. Between her legs, the pulse became a throb, and then the throb became a demand.

From now on, should she find his mouth level with her breasts, he’d be playing with fire.

His hand, which she’d lost track of, reappeared to splay across her leg. Five roughly distinct points spanned the junction between her hip and her thigh.

She clenched again as he dipped his thumb into her patch of hair.

“So slick,” he murmured.

Fortitude. She shifted in mortification.

“So hot and so tight.”

She stilled as if caged inside her own want. If they could have spoken, her swollen folds would have begged for more.

She hadn’t known such sensations existed. Sensations that peaked when he hit a certain place. As she squealed and shuddered, his strokes became short and hard and focused.

Not quite the right place.

She didn’t even understand the thought. But then, he ground down at just the right angle, and she sucked in with shock. She felt that touch everywhere, from her fingertips to her toes.

He lifted his head from her breast. “There?”

“There.” She gripped his neck and guided his mouth back to her nipple. “Both!”

With a low gurgle of laughter, he took the bud back into his mouth. His amusement had been rich with affection and not at all mocking, despite how embarrassing it should have been.

She heard disbelief. Wonder. Something almost like joy.

Then, as he teased her lightly with his teeth, she stopped caring again.

She turned her head to the side, squeezed her eyes shut, and held. Her body demanded she rock with him, but vacillating felt shameless and lewd.

Fortitude.

She peeked at him through narrowly opened eyes. He applied himself diligently, hungrily, to her pleasure, without even a hint of a wrinkle in his brow. Why, then, should she withhold?

Losing the last vestiges of her ladylike training, she undulated against his hand.

Her pleasure increased with his access. Then, with little warning, she fell to pieces. With a jerky intake of breath, her entire body quivered, culminating in a drawn-out, uncontrollable groan.

She stilled, completely dazed, drifting off. All that existed was the dim awareness of his hair between her fingers as she cradled him against her breasts.

She blinked away the haze gathering in her eyes.

Her skin prickled with an unsettling awareness; she looked down into his face. His expression was patient, almost reverent. How long had she floated in that daze?

She sighed deeply, reaching up to remove one annoying pin that was pinching her scalp. Now she could be comfortable; now she could reflect.

She had expected something else.

But what had she expected? She’d only ever seen stallion-to-mare mating, but that was entirely different. Although she’d certainly felt like a mare in heat. And mares, she knew, raised their tails just before the stallion...

Oh heavens. She wrinkled her nose. “We aren’t finished, are we?”

He rested his cheek against her breast. “We can be.”