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She ran her hands further up under his shirt, feeling an uneven mapping of scars. Hesitantly, she stroked a finger over one roughened circle and felt him shudder under her touch. She longed to ask about the scar, how it had happened, when it had happened...but this was no time for such talk. Instead, she slipped her hands higher still, until she encountered his nipples.
It was the wrong angle, with his head buried in her chest, for her to attempt to copy his actions of a moment before. Still...she stroked across the firm flesh with her thumbs and, when that got another shuddering response from him, added the lightest scrape of a nail.
Danielgrowled. There was no other way to describe the sound that resonated up his chest and through his bared teeth. His eyes shot up to meet her gaze, dark as forest shadows, before his head dropped to her left breast, giving it the same attention he had lavished on the other and inciting another set of shivers through her. His hands drifted lower on her hips, hesitated, and then one plunged under her skirt, the other raising it to provide better access as his fingers found the damp cloth that covered her most private place.
Firm fingers stroked over the moist cloth, molding it to the dripping and heated flesh beneath, teasing and sending waves of sensation through her that threatened to turn her legs to jelly.
Now it was her turn to lean against him, struggling to keep her feet as tingle after tingle shot through her core. Without conscious thought, she found herself widening her stance and leaning into his touch, making soft pleading noises. Some distant part of her thought it was unfair that she should be so undone, and he still so in control, though far more of her attention was focused on every shift and twitch of his fingers.
Caught in a slowly growing inferno, she looped one arm up around his neck and let the other drift down…down to the waistband of his trousers. She gasped as his fingers stroked a bit harder in response, then found the buttons of his trousers and unclasped them, until her hand could slip within. She stroked the firm, hard length of him, coaxing the hot and straining flesh free of its confines until the leaking head pressed against her thigh, until her hand could reach back and cup his manhood, stroking with her thumb as he was doing to her.
Daniel arced into her with a sound that might have been a shout, a curse, an exclamation, or anything as he surged forward and pressed his straining shaft against her leg. His hips rolled once, twice...a movement he seemed helpless to stop as her hand inadvertently stroked over his cock. Then he uttered another word that was definitely a curse or oath of some sort.
Rough, impatient hands tugged her underclothes away from her feminine center. Then one strong firm hand, heated and shaking ever so slightly, caressed the newly exposed flesh in a way that nearly made her collapse right then and there.
Two fingers stroked along her wet and sensitive folds. Then, without warning, they tugged apart slightly, drawing her with them so that a third finger could stroke within, running over her and pressing inside almost to the point of discomfort.
Her hands, and the rest of her body arced and spasmed helplessly at the unanticipated but far from unwelcome intrusion. A soft whimper-scream escaped her throat, one hand clenching on his shoulder, the other wrapping around his member in response to his touch.
Another stroke, and his hips arched in time with his movement, rubbing his cock against her hand in a way that made him hiss and move again. She wondered if he felt the same darting, spiking sensations she did, the growing pressure building in her groin and demanding release, demanding...more.
She tightened her grip ever so slightly, felt him arch more strongly as his fingers slid inside the dripping folds of her sex, into her core, stroking, teasing...a brush of him against her inner walls had her gasping his name. “Daniel...”
Hotter,hotter. She felt as if she was burning. It felt as if he might be burning too, the heavy weight of his manhood in her hand heated with repeated rolling movements of his hips, both of them gasping and making noises of pleasure and need that she had never imagined hearing, let alone making.
Then his thumb found a nub of flesh, a sensitive nub that sang with pleasure and ignited her nerves the way a torch ignited oil-soaked wood. He stroked again, then used thumb and forefinger to tease her, rubbing and tweaking the flesh until she thought she might scream. The pressure was nearly unbearable, and her hand was clenching and loosening around him without her control.
Finger and thumb tweaked the center of her pleasure again, this time accompanied by two fingers stroking deep within the folds of her sex, and a hot breath over her sensitive nipples.
The pressure inside her soared, burned, and broke over her in a wave of pleasure that left her shuddering in his arms, wetness flooding down through her folds, over his hand as she clenched around his fingers and gasped, her knees going boneless as sparks danced behind her eyes.
“Hetty…” The word was more a groan of sound than anything else. Within the lax grasp of her hand, Daniel’s rolling motions stuttered, shuddered, and another wave of wetness fell across her hand and thigh, this time from him.
And the last of her thoughts broke apart and drifted away on a glowing tide of blissful sensation the likes of which she had never experienced before.
CHAPTERSIXTEEN
Daniel leaned against the wall, arm trembling and barely able to support him as his climax shuddered out of him, following Hetty by mere moments. Sweat soaked his shirt, and his breath came in heaving gulps.
God above and all the stars in heaven too…but he had not thought she would—
She had startled him with that challenge, that little flick of her tongue to his palm, like a spark to his nerves, but he hadn’t thought she was genuine in her toying. Yes, she had certainly seemed to enjoy their kiss at the ball, but her reactions to posing had told him on the first day that she was a maiden in every traditional sense of the word, save perhaps her age. He thought that the aggression of his kiss would set her back, allow him to regain control as she remembered the modesty with which she had begun their enterprise.
He should have known better. Hetty was not one to retreat. But he certainly hadn’t expected her to actually press closer to his growing erection, let alone have the temerity to stroke him, through his trousers or not.
He’d upped the stakes, unwilling to give way, having no desire to resist the invitation of her touch and her challenging expression. He had known, when she arched into his mouth as he suckled her breast, that he was no longer in control, that he was entering dangerous territory, and any control he had was rapidly disappearing.
And still she had met him, challenge for challenge and move for move. Inexperienced, certainly, but no less passionate and certainly no less enticing and thrilling to his burning senses.
Plunging his fingers into the warm, wet, softness of her sex had been almost overwhelming, and it had taken every scrap of his remaining self-control not to withdraw his hand and thrust himself inside her, to press his aching length into the soft heat of her until he could go no further, and enjoy every sound she made, every shudder and tremble and gasping little cry, as he took her.
God, the sounds she had made as he stroked her, teasing her until she broke apart around his hand, shuddering into his arms. And even then, she’d not relinquished the challenge, gripping him, and allowing him to thrust into the soft warmth of her delicate hand until her release and the growing pressure, pleasure, heat sent him over the edge as well.
Now they both stood panting, entwined, sweaty and mussed. He managed to raise his head enough to look at Hetty, drinking in her reddened lips, her thoroughly tousled mane of hair, damp with sweat, framing those rosy cheeks of hers, those blue eyes still dulled with the lingering afterglow so that she looked like a particularly beautiful and satisfied cat.
He guided both of them to the floor, turning so that he could lean against the wall, and she could lean against him as they both regained control over their breathing. He managed, with a bit of effort, to at least get himself properly covered again, though it wasn’t the most comfortable sensation in the world. Leaning against his shoulder, Hetty was languid and boneless, though she did frown and make some attempts at setting herself to rights when she noticed him attempting to put himself back together.
He offered her a handkerchief to clean up the mess on her legs, and she blushed prettily and ducked her head as she resettled her garments into something more proper. He watched her, his head slowly clearing from the pleasure-induced fog.
