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THIRTY-NINE
"Do you like that?"
Alethia froze. He was staring at her now, and she didn't dare move her hand lest she draw his attention to where it was.
"Do I like what?" she asked carefully.
He waved at the pages of the open book in his lap. "All this biting and sucking and thrusting fingers into places."
Uh, yeah, or she wouldn't be inches away from pleasuring herself to the sound of his voice.
"Does a lady's...secret place truly taste as delicious as these men say?"
Alethia couldn't stifle the snort of laughter that escaped. "Well, all the book heroes seem to think so. I wouldn't know. I've never given oral sex to a woman before. And, before you ask, no, no man has ever gone down on me, so I don't know what I taste like, either. Men taste like eggplant or zucchini when they come, and while I don't mind my vegies, I'm not really a fan of the taste during sex. Have you ever gone down on a woman? What did it taste like?"
His eyes widened. "Me? I've never done such a thing. Taken my tongue to a lady's...secret place. Yet these ladies seem to receive so much pleasure from it..."
Alethia laughed. "Well, yeah. Most guys can't make a girl come with just their dick. They need to work for it. I mean, that's the holy grail for a girl, isn't it? Getting a guy who can give good dick. Callie's convinced they're about as rare as unicorns, and she's never met one. Whereas a guy who gives good oral or is good with his hands shows he at least knows where a girl's clit is, so it's worth a shot..."
"What in heaven's name is a clit, and what is so important about it?"
Alethia closed her eyes. Any normal man, she'd be torn between kicking him out of her bedroom for sheer ignorance, or inviting him to take a look. With Stan, every bit of her body was screaming for her to invite him. Then he'd say that would be unseemly, or improper, or one of another maddening Regency words that made her want to scream.
"I think Mum might have an anatomy text book in the office I could show you," she said, flipping the quilt to one side so she could climb out of bed.
Only to find Stan kneeling on the floor beside the bed, blocking her way. He carefully placed his hand on her knee before he looked up at her with smouldering puppy dog eyes. "Would you show me? Please?" That Voice said.
A sensible girl would have swept him aside and walked past him to get that textbook.
Alethia shimmied out of her knickers and dropped them on the floor quickly, hoping he wouldn't notice how soaking wet they were. Then she slid up the bed until her back hit the headboard. "You want to see...my..." Now who was having trouble getting the words out? She'd be damned before she called any bit of her body a secret place, though.
His cheeks reddened. "I wish not only to see, but to taste. For you are sweetness itself, and I cannot imagine you being anything but delicious." He flicked his tongue out, and it looked longer than it should be. Like it belonged to a demon, a monster, instead of a man.
As if the wings and horns and claws weren't a dead giveaway.
Claws that were now resting on both her knees, pushing her legs apart oh so slowly.
His eyes begged her. Blue eyes only a shade darker than her own. How had she not known he had blue eyes before? The eyes of a man, not a monster.
He lifted her legs over his shoulders, his eyes never once leaving hers, as he crawled onto the bed. Then he began to trace her folds with his finger. Softly, so softly it tickled, and she squirmed under his touch, wanting more that she couldn't seem to bring herself to ask for.
"Your lower lips are wet. So very wet, just like the ladies in your books. Ready to be...fucked, is that not what their lovers say?"
Slowly, Alethia nodded. If he'd only take his jeans off...
"But first, I must find this clit. A pearl, a bundle of nerves, a nub...ah, your books have so many words for this mysterious part of yours. Something to be bitten and sucked and circled...so sensitive that the merest touch...ah."
He'd found it, all right. He knew it, too, stroking her lightly at first to gauge her reaction, then harder, until she felt her back beginning to arch, pushing her hips toward him, offering more of herself. All of herself.
"This gives you pleasure," she heard him say, as her vision began to blur. She was so close.
"Yes," she panted, desperate for him to continue. To give her the release she craved. "Oh yes!"
"But all the books say I must push my fingers inside you." His finger stroked down, deep inside her, before he joined it with a second, then a third. His fingers were thicker than most men's cocks, and she liked the feel of them inside her, if only he'd stroke her clit again. Just once would be enough to...
"And I must hook them, like this?"
She wasn't sure how, but Stan had found some spot inside her that was almost as sensitive as her clit, and he knew that, too, for his eyes drank in her expression, her reaction, her every panting breath as she arched her back higher. "Please, oh, please," she begged.
