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“You like that. Tell me if you like this.” He bent and took her nipple into his mouth, making her jump and then gasp as his hot, wet mouth tugged at her. There was an answering tug between her legs, and she couldn’t stop herself from moving her hips forward so her core pressed against that hard bulge. He looked up at her, mouth still teasing her flesh, and his eyes glittered. He tugged her other breast free of the chemise and cupped it. His callused thumb brushed over the nipple, and she arched her back to give him better access.
The more he caressed and teased the more the ache between her legs grew. She knew she should be embarrassed at the way she pushed that part of herself against him, but she couldn’t seem to help it.
And then she felt his hand on her knee.
Her bare knee.
She hadn’t felt him lift her skirts, but he’d worked his way under them and how his hand touched the thin cotton of her drawers.
“Let me touch you where you’re aching, lass,” he said, his mouth still on her breast.
“I can’t. This has already gone too far.” But she didn’t push him away. She didn’t close her legs.
“Then we should take it to its conclusion. Aren’t you wondering what this is leading to?”
“I know about orgasm,” she said.
He chuckled against her warm flesh. “Something you read in a book.” He looked up at her. “Do they write of such things in books?”
Her cheeks were hot. “I did read about it. I wanted to know.”
“You only read about it?” His brow arched, and under her skirts he found the slit in her drawers. “You never tried it?” His fingers were on her inner thigh, and she couldn’t think much less dissemble.
“I tried, but I couldn’t—”
Her whole body felt hot and red with mortification and desire.
“Let me show you.” His fingers grazed her moist curls, and she watched his face as he slid past them and cupped her sex.
His eyes closed in what could only be described as bliss. “Lass,” he said, his voice reverent. “So soft and wet.” He parted her with his fingers and one finger slid along her opening.
She tensed, and he kissed her lips gently. “Shh. Relax. Sure and I won’t hurt you. If you don’t like it, I’ll stop.” His finger slid deeper, not quite entering her. “Do you like it?”
“More,” she said.
He pressed inside her, and she clenched around him, letting a low moan escape as he moved deeper. Another finger or perhaps his thumb moved on the outside, sliding up and down as he moved within her.
She clenched again.
“You’re so close, lass. And I’ve only started.”
Her nipples seemed to swell and harden, and her hips rolled to meet his finger when it moved deeper. “Callahan,” she whispered.
“Feel that?” The finger outside her slicked over the place where the most pleasure seemed to emanate. “You’re all but vibrating. Your body knows what’s coming.”
She gasped loudly now and moaned as he continued to stroke her. “Yes,” she breathed. “Yes,” she cried as her body tightened and then crescendoed into a breathless release.
When it was over, she looked up at the ceiling. Somehow, she’d lay back on the table, and she had a moment to think about how she was lying, half-naked, on a table in a pub.
And then she looked at Callahan, and she didn’t want to be anywhere else.
“Is it like it says in the book?” he asked, his grin lopsided as he looked down at her.
“I don’t think words could adequately describe it.”
“No,” he said, his gaze roaming over her body. “There are some things words cannot do justice. I’ll help you dress.”
She blinked and sat up. “We’re done.” Then realizing how that sounded. “I mean—”
