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He drew his mouth down from her breast to her belly. His lips tickled her skin. When he came to the waistband of her pantaloons, she had the thought that she should push him away. Touching her in other places was one thing, but touching her there had to be wrong. Everyone knew that.
Yet when he stroked her thighs, she was surprised to find it felt almost as nice as when he touched her breasts. And when his fingertips whispered across the fabric covering her blond curls, she was struck with shivering, not disgust. It didn't seem so odd then to part her knees a little.
He ran his hands down the tops of her legs, then up the outside. His thumbs swept dangerously close to her most secret place. She jumped in anticipation or perhaps even in shock when he paused and deliberately touched her there. Just one finger, just for a moment.
Delight ripped through her. She thought about opening her eyes, but she didn't want to look at him. Not just after he'd done that. She shifted against him, feeling the hard strength of his legs beside hers.
He returned his attention to her chest, touching her with his mouth, making her forget everything. She felt his hand moving once more over her belly. She didn't mind. He could stroke her legs if he wanted to. It didn't matter if he—
Her eyes flew open. He put his hand there. Right there! Over her. She glanced down. Justin wasn't looking at her. He was poised over her throbbing nipple, his eyes closed, his mouth parted. She told herself to look away, but she couldn't. It was too amazing. He lowered his head slowly,
achingly slowly, then stuck out the tip of his tongue. As she held her breath in anticipation, he touched the tip to her nipple. The combination of watching and feeling what he was doing almost made her faint. He did it again and again, until she was forced to close her eyes in ecstasy. She arched her hips, then felt the weight of his hand.
She'd been able to forget it for a while, but now she felt each individual finger through her pantaloons. The middle one started to move. Up and down, moving lower and lower with each stroke. Pushing the loose fabric against her until he suddenly touched something that made her gasp. A tiny jolt of heat singed her, like an ember from the stove. Only better. She froze. Would he do it again? Should she let him?
He did. He touched that place again. It was wrong, she told herself. Ithad to be. Nothing right could feel that good. She should tell him to stop. But his finger circled the magic place and she didn't want to tell him to stop.
Just a few more minutes, she promised herself. She would count to a hundred, then make him stop.
"One," she whispered. "Two, three—"
Justin raised his head from her breast. "What are you doing?"
"Counting. When I get to a hundred, you have to stop."
"Why?"
"It feels— Ah!" He brushed over her again and her thighs parted completely. Again and again, and the bottoms of her feet started burning.
"Go ahead and count," he said. "I'll stop when you get to a hundred. Don't forget to tell me."
She could have sworn he was laughing, but she didn't have the energy to open her eyes and look. It didn't matter, anyway. She would remind him. Now, what number was she on?
She thought it might be ten, then decided it couldn't be more than five. He moved his finger slowly against her. Around and around, building a sensation she didn't understand. It was as if every muscle in her body was straining toward a common goal. She tensed and relaxed. She tossed her head from side to side. Nothing helped. It was definitely warmer in the room.
"Justin, it's hot."
"Maybe it would help if you took off your pantaloons."
She opened one eye. "You think so?"
He nodded solemnly. "What number are we on? I don't want you to lose track."
Number? Oh. "Ah, twenty-five."
"Is that all?" he murmured as he untied her pantaloons. He slipped them off her legs, leaving her only in stockings and garters. Somehow, she knew taking them off wouldn't help at all. "Twenty-five? You're sure?"
"Yes, yes, hurry, we have to get to a hundred."
The first time he stroked the dampness between her legs without the barrier of clothing between them, she forgot to]si count. The second time he did it, she didn't care if he continued to touch her forever. Nothing mattered except the magic he created. She hadn't known there could be such sensation or feeling. Every inch of her quivered. She i couldn't focus, couldn't breathe, could only feel those gen- x tie fingers moving back and forth, around and around.
