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He asked softly, “Meaning?”
“Usually, this starts with me on my knees, then after a few pumps inside, it’s done and the man leaves.”
She thought he smiled, but because of the shadows couldn’t be sure.
“Let’s try something different.”
Although still hesitant, she sat. “Why can’t I just take off my clothes, you take off yours, and we move to the bed?”
He outlined her lips with an adoring feather-light finger, then kissed her. “This way is more fun...”
And truthfully, as the kiss deepened, she decided he was right. His slowly roaming handscoupled with his heated mouth and the whispered promises of the many wicked ways he planned to have her stoked the embers of her desire back to breathless life. Leaning up, she returned the kisses with the same languid intensity, savoring the taste of him and the potent slide of his tongue against her own. The shawl slipped free, exposing the bare crowns of her shoulders to fervent brushes of lips that then descended and lingered against the hollow of her throat. She moaned with pleasure.
He drew the tip of his finger over the exposed tops of her breasts above her heart-shaped bodice. “I’ve wanted you since our first breakfast together.”
Holding her eyes, his finger caressed the soft skin beneath her proud chin before moving down to lightly graze her already taut nipples. Her eyes slid closed. He kissed her and continued the slow, sweet teasing of her breasts until they pleaded silently. As if hearing the plea, he leaned in, freed a nipple, and sucked it wickedly. Heat flowed from his mouth to her core. His tongue circled lazily around the tightened peak. A gentled bite made her moan pleasurably, helplessly, for more.
He raised his head and recaptured her lips. “Is the other one as sweet?” His fingers kept theone he’d just treated hard and pleased. “Show me so I can taste it.”
Propelled by the husky request, Spring boldly unveiled herself and was splendidly rewarded. The shadowy room spun deliciously as he feasted. She was unaccustomed to a man intent upon pleasuring her so skillfully, or at all. By now, those in her past were already done and on the way out the door. It was scary in a way. Her body was enjoying the hot slide of his lips across the hollow of her throat, and the sureness of his hand slowly mapping her silk-covered spine. Sex was supposed to be emotionless and quick, not this prolonged, languid descent into a heated realm she couldn’t control. She backed away, closed her eyes, and fought to calm the wild lust he’d unleashed in her blood.
“What’s wrong?” he asked softly, continuing to pay smoldering attention to her bared breasts. “Are you unhappy with the way I’m pleasuring you?”
Fighting to form words, she replied, “I like the pleasure, but I don’t like how long this is taking, or not being able to remember my damn name.”
He leaned down and drew her nipple into his mouth. When she gasped in shuddering response, he chuckled.
“I can still feed you to a bear, you know.”
Rising up, he whispered hotly against her ear, “My apologies for being a man who knows his way around a woman’s body and not a ham-handed rube who pumps inside you a few times and leaves you unsatisfied. Loving a woman properly is an art, my sweet Spring.”
“I don’t want art.”
“You should. You’re passionate and beautiful. You shouldn’t be afraid of pleasure.”
“I’m not.” Her core was wet and pulsating even though he’d yet to touch her there. She was sure she’d burst into flames when he did.
“If you’ve changed your mind, and prefer I spend the rest of the night in your spare room, I’ll understand.”
“No.” She didn’t know how she’d lost the upper hand in the conversation, but apparently, she had. Even worse, she now had to prove she wasn’t afraid of pleasure.
“Are you sure?”
She nodded.
“Then shall we get this gown off of you?” he asked, brushing his lips over the column of her throat and moving a thumb over a damp pebble-hard nipple. Leaning up to kiss him, she replied, “Yes.” In spite of her slight show of pique, she was enjoying being kissed, andtruthfully, couldn’t seem to get enough of his mouth or the sensual dance of their tongues. All the quick couplings she’d had in the past had never involved her removing anything but her denims. Her shirt may have been opened to allow a fast grab at her breasts, but the men were mainly focused on what she had between her legs. There’d been no art.
“Turn a moment, please.”
She complied and he deftly undid the small jet buttons that ran down her spine. Once he was done, she left his lap and stood, then slowly stepped out of the gown. Clad in her lace-edged ivory shift, garters, stockings, and drawers, she laid the silk gown on a nearby chair. Chin raised and savoring the heat in his eyes, she stood before the undulating light of the fire in anticipation of what would come next. He skimmed both hands possessively up and down the edges of her thighs and hips—circling her skin slowly, masterfully, until her head dropped back and her legs trembled.
In a voice as dark as the shadows he said, “Take your drawers off for me, Spring.”
Her eyes blazed into his as she complied.
His hand moved between her thighs and she widened them in sultry invitation.
“You’re very hot and wet...”
