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“Because you’re soft. And sweet.” He bent to skim his open mouth along her jaw. “You make me forget I’m supposed to be responsible and respectable.” One of his hands left her breast to drag her skirt and petticoat up her leg. “Because when there’s nothing but winter all around, with you it’s always spring.” His hand swept her thigh, and she quivered everywhere he touched.
“Oh, you are…much too good at this,” she murmured as his lips brushed kisses over her cheek.
“At what? The compliments? Or the touching and kissing?”
“All of it.”
“Better than Morgan?” He nuzzled her ear.
“I wouldn’t go that far,” she said, to provoke him.
She should have known better; he only took it as a challenge. His hand at her thigh slid over her drawers and then inside the slit. “Ah, but I’m not done, sweeting.” His thumb sank into her private nest of hair, searching out a secret place that he rubbed, making her jerk upright on the pedestal.
“Goodness gracious, Sebastian!” She’d never felt anything so shocking in all her life! She grabbed his forearm in a vain attempt to halt his caresses. “I may be naive, but I know you aren’t supposed to do that.”
The clever scoundrel had the audacity to smile, then thumb her again, wringing a sigh from her. “Tell me you want me, sweeting. Say the words, and I’ll stop.”
She didn’t want him to stop. Indeed, her hand dug into his forearm, keeping him there. Oh, she was wicked, so very wicked.
His smile widened. “You like that, don’t you. No point in denying it.”
As if she could. One hand teased her breast, the other inside her drawers made her insane…what was there to deny? He stared down at her, his muscles taut as he searched her face. “Oh yes, you like it. I can feel that you do. You’re so warm and wet, my naughty goddess.”
Wet? How did he know about…Oh, of course he knew. His thumb pressed against the very intimate place where she felt slick and hot and eager. Then suddenly, it wasn’t just his thumb stroking her, but his finger, and it was sliding up inside her…
“Dear me…” she moaned. “What in creation do you think you’re doing?”
“You don’t like it?” He stroked deeply, making her quake and quiver.
Of course she liked it. “I shouldn’t like it.”
“I don’t know why the devil not,” he growled. “God knows I do.”
Then he was kissing her…long, drugging kisses. His finger delved inside her in the most astonishing manner, in and out, while his thumb played over some tight nodule of flesh she’d never even known was there. Certainly she’d never known that any part of her could feel like that.
He dragged his lips from hers to murmur, “Am I reckless enough for you?”
“Yes, oh yes…”
His hand on her breast caressed her with a fine precision. He was working her, molding her, and shaping her with such exquisite care that she began to lose all sense of time and self. She knew only the reality of his finger inside her, of his hands awakening her skin to hitherto unknown delights.
“Is it Morgan you’re thinking of?” he demanded.
She couldn’t speak, could only shake her head no.
“Who is it you want, sweeting? Say it, damn you!”
She keened his name, low and urgent, over and over until he smothered her mouth triumphantly with a kiss.
Then he worked her in earnest, coaxing from her body some hidden wildness she’d kept secret even from herself. Like a god, he breathed life into her body, an act of creation so delicious that she leaped to be clay in his hands. Soon her own hands crawled up his sleeves to clutch his shoulders, and her hips undulated against his fingers with a nameless wanting that was building, building…
“Yes,” he rasped, “reach for it, my Aphrodite…reach…”
That’s when she shattered, so utterly and delightfully that her cry echoed off the glass ceiling above and the brick walls surrounding them.
“Dear me, Sebastian…” she breathed as her body throbbed with the most luxurious enjoyment she’d ever known.
Then she sank into a blissful torpor, oblivious to everything but the lingering pleasure of his hands still touching her. What had he done to her? How he had done it? And when would he do it again?
