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I caught his gaze. “Nevertheless, I need to know.”
“I told you. Not everything is within my power, lovely Gwynn. I knew you would survive it. And that you would come out stronger. I did what I could to make the terms bearable.”
“You made sure they couldn’t actually use me—sexually.”
“Yes.” He nearly growled the word. “That is only for me. I long for you. Let me have you.”
His eyes burned with an intensity I couldn’t face. I looked away and wiggled the fingers of my right hand. “My hand is falling asleep.”
“Pity. I’ll have to rub it for you.” He slid his body sinuously along mine in demonstration. My nipples chafed and peaked. Rogue’s eyes roved down to where the straight neckline of my dress threatened to drag too low. He tightened the arm around my waist, lifting me up a bit, which only pulled the dress lower. He bent, placing a trailing kiss along my bosom. I dragged in a breath, trying to still my response.
“This isn’t flirting,” I gasped out.
“What do you call it?” he asked lazily, as a lock of his hair fell across my breast, stark against the white curve.
I held back a whimper as his tongue dipped below the fabric dangerously close to a nipple. Longing surged through me.
“I don’t agree to this. I agreed to flirting, nothing more.”
Rogue chuckled and raised his head. With a heated stare at my breasts pushing above the top of my dress, he placed a last kiss just over my heart.
And set me on my feet. He watched me with close interest while I pulled the fabric back into place. He cocked his head when I set to massaging the feeling back into my hand.
“Shall I help?”
“No thanks. No more touching.”
“Flirting means no touching to you?”
“Correct.”
“I want touching. To me, flirting involves some touching. It’s not acting as if you’re interested otherwise.”
“That would be your problem,” I quipped back, all sweetness.
“Okay, we can void the agreement and I’ll proceed as I wish—you don’t seem to be very good at fighting me off.”
Humiliating but true. Though I didn’t think he’d rape me, I could tell by the need already throbbing through me that I wouldn’t resist him forever if he made a concerted effort. I hated him—why wasn’t that helping? Instead I felt alive and alert. Stimulated. And by more than just the foreplay. I enjoyed the banter.He’s not your friend,I reminded myself.
“Limited touching. No lips, no…body parts.”
His lips quirked at my unwillingness to name the parts.
“Somebody parts, surely—hands?”
“One hand only,” I allowed grudgingly. “Outside the clothes.”
“And any publicly exposed skin,” he qualified.
I didn’t like it, but I thought it might be the best deal I’d get.
“Agreed.”
Chapter 22
In Which I Fulfill One Bargain
‡
