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“Of course.” She waited for him to sit in the chair nearest the fire.
He sat down without a word.
She clasped the heel with both hands and tugged. A slight movement meant progress but not the complete removal as she expected. Looking up at him, she asked, “Am I doing this wrong?”
“Try straddling my leg and pulling.”
She did as he suggested and bent over to yank the boot again. Just as the boot slid off his foot, she heard him groan.
“Dear God,” he muttered.
She glanced back at him. “Did I hurt you?”
“God, no.”
He’d been staring at her derrière. Did men like to look at women that way? Based on his reaction, she had to believe they did. And if that were the case, she would give him something to gaze at. She straddled his other leg and bent ove
r him again. Only this time, she wiggled her hips as she tugged at the boot.
“You little minx,” he rasped.
Once the boots and stockings were off, she pulled his hands to stand up so she could remove his trousers and satisfy her curiosity once and for all. Before she could reach for his trousers, he drew up against him and kissed her passionately. She matched the sensual rasp of his tongue with hers until her knees nearly gave out.
“Do you know how much I want you?” he asked.
Emboldened by his passion, she drew her finger up the wool-covered length of his shaft. “I believe I do.”
“Take these damned things off.”
“Yes, sir.”
She found the buttons under his trousers' falls and quickly slid the cloth over his slim hips. A gasp escaped her when his thick shaft escaped the restraints of his trousers. He took her hand and brought it to his hard cock. It was not at all what she expected. Hard, yet the skin there was soft like velvet. He showed her how to touch him, skim her fingers over him, and rub the top of him until a small bead of liquid seeped out.
“If you do much more than that, you will unman me,” he whispered. “Besides, it is your turn.”
“My turn?”
“For pleasure.”
“Oh,” she whispered. Memories of the day in his bedroom flooded her. With Simon, she felt no fear that he would mistreat her. She doubted she could have picked a better man for her first time. He would never tell a soul about what happened in this room. He kissed her again as he walked her toward the large bed in the middle of the room.
“This dressing gown needs to go.”
Emma slid the robe off her with slow, deliberate movements, hoping she was giving him exactly what he wanted. As the dressing down pooled at her feet, his breath rushed out of him in a long hiss before his lips captured hers again.
Laying her down on the bed, she returned his ardent kisses. She savored the sensation of his warm skin on hers. His hard muscles pressed her again her, keeping her safe from the outside world as if it were just the two of them, and no one else mattered. As his lips moved down her neck, she shivered with anticipation. His manhood pressed against her thigh. While she knew the basics of the act, her mother had never told it how wonderful it felt to have a man kiss her breasts.
It was beyond wonderful.
As his tongue swiped her nipples, her hips pressed to his attempting to get even closer if that was possible. She felt his fingers between her thighs until he reached that spot that made her wild with desire. When his thumb rubbed her nub, she arched her back and moaned.
“You are driving me mad, Emma,” he whispered against her breast before moving his mouth to her nipple again.
“Yes,” she mumbled as desire shot through her. Her nerves hummed when he slid a finger deep inside her. “Please...”
“Please what?” he asked softly.
Surely he knew what she wanted, what she needed right now. “Please, Simon.”
