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“You…” It was a wonder he had sufficient wit left to form words. “You are a wicked seductress, a dangerous temptress.”
Her hand stilled. Her nails dug in ever so slightly. “No man has ever called me that before.”
“Because every man in the world is a fool.”
“Except you.”
“Obviously.”
Obviously, he was the greatest fool of all.
A new, deeper pleasure flooded him, while Arabella, supple and smiling and mischievous, let her hands roam over his belly to the waistband of his breeches. She could not have missed the bulge of his cock but she ignored it. He should have been more careful with what he taught her.
“I have you at my mercy now,” she crooned. “Wicked seductress that I am. I shall use you for my pleasure.”
Her nimble fingers tackled his falls. Guy closed his eyes, lifted his hips on command, and tensed every one of his tortured muscles as she dispensed with his clothing. Groaned as she moved back up his body, her fingers teasing and exploring, the heavy silk of her unbound hair sweeping over his naked skin.
It felt even better than he had imagined.
“It is delicious to be touched, but delicious to touch too. It is good that you like games.”
“Why so?”
“Because you make an excellent plaything.”
He opened his eyes to see her smile broaden, and then she gripped his cock firmly. Nothing tentative with her; no half measures. She had decided to do this, and do it she would, and all Guy could do was submit.
“Careful,” he groaned.
“Do you like this?”
She was studying him, stroking him, with almost scientific curiosity. Then she bent her head, brushed her lips over his belly, his hip, ignoring his cock against her cheek. Stars above, when had poised, prickly Arabella become this… this…
“Dangerous temptress,” she murmured, as if she had heard his thoughts. “Wicked seductress.”
“You’re going to torment me, aren’t you?” He was mesmerized by the sight of her perfect face so close to his cock.
Her eyes widened. “Is that an option? Oh. That’s an option.”
“What are you going to do to me?”
“Whatever I please.” Her heavy-lidded gaze roamed over him. “If I am a dangerous temptress and wicked seductress, what would I do to you next?” Her eyes lingered on his cock, gripped in her hand. “This, I should think.”
She bent her head and took him in her mouth. No hesitation, no half measures.
Closing his eyes, Guy let his head thud back onto the floor. Followed his own advice and let himself feel.
She had no idea what she was doing, and he was in no state to teach her. But her ineptitude didn’t matter. He was so aroused that she could have done damn near anything and still the pleasure would come.
He grappled for air, for something to hold onto, as pleasure and pressure dueled and danced in his loins. His desperate hands found his shirt, tossed it at her. Surprise made her lift her head, grip him harder. He fumbled for the shirt. Pleasure shuddered through him and he came, groaning, into the soft linen folds.
“Oh,” she said. “We keep ruining your shirts.”
The shirts were the least of his problems. She kept ruining him.
Collapsing, he closed his eyes while she dealt with the shirt, then she shifted to sit against him. Her hand returned to rest on his belly, as though helping him heal. Heal from the sweet-hot fire of release, as if an earthquake had ripped through him and his organs were still adjusting to the newly shaken-up world.
In this new world, he was not in charge of himself. He was sapped of energy, sprawled helplessly on the floor, feeling more naked than ever before in his life. How easy, how right, how natural it was, to surrender completely to her call, to the way she enthralled him, thrilled him, humbled him, magnified him.
