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“Oh, I don’t know,” he replied ominously. Lifting his free hand, he curled his fingers into claws and growled low in his throat. A quick flare of worry in her eyes flashed, then he was on her, chomping playfully on the side of her neck, his hands all over her as he made bear noises.
Her laughter stunned him.
“Do that again.”
God, she was gorgeous. Life sparked under the pain in her eyes, making them glint like emeralds caught in the sun. Laughter brought a blush to her pale cheeks, accentuating the high cut of lush cheekbones. He thought his cock might erupt without any input from him when her tongue flicked out over her lips.
Bafflement darkened her eyes. “Do what again?”
“Laugh.”
Caera swallowed nervously. “Haha?”
That just wouldn’t do. With an evil chuckle, he said, “Are you ticklish?”
She took a quick step back, breaking their physical connection. “Um…no?”
Saul grinned. “There was definitely some hesitation. Maybe I should just tickle you and see.”
Another step away, then another. When he followed her, playfully stalking her, she let out a high-pitched squeal of faux terror and ran. The chase was on—adrenaline surged through him as he bounded along behind Caera, keeping just within arm’s reach of her.
Graciously, he allowed her to almost reach the safety of the porch before he lunged and wrapped his arms around her, swinging her off her feet with a growl. She squirmed and pleaded, laughter strangling her as his hands got busy finding all her sensitive places.
It turned out she was incredibly ticklish in a number of interesting areas. Saul exploited them all, reducing her to a limp heap of hysterical female on the ground. “I’ve got a beautiful, funny, ticklish woman at my mercy. Whatever should I do with her?”
Breathless, she met his gaze straight on. “Whatever Sir wishes.”
Time stopped. Saul’s heart jolted in his chest. Every muscle tensed. It was a dream come true, one Caera didn’t even know she was granting as she looked up at him, her mouth parted, face flushed with excitement. He quivered like a stallion scenting a mare in heat when she said those three little words.
Whatever. Sir. Wishes.
Did she know? Suspect? No, she couldn’t. His lifestyle was well out of Caera’s range when it came to sex…wasn’t it? He frowned slightly. She had mentioned she was an avid reader, and BDSM was growing popular in the romance trope. Had she stumbled across a dirty book? Had the story, the concept of Dominance and submission aroused her?
Or was he grasping at straws, hoping for something to indicate she was on the same page he was? Had she simply used Sir as a spur of the moment honorific?
“Saul?”
Clearing his throat, he snapped out of his thoughts and lifted her to her feet, drawing her tightly into the cradle of his arms. “I’ve neglected you horribly, little rabbit. I apologize, and I’m going to rectify this shocking abuse immediately.”
She blinked. “You have? You are?”
“I damn well am,” he confirmed, covering her mouth with his. Her shock was a punch to the gut, just as seconds later, her capitulation nearly brought him to his knees. She stirred a myriad of emotions in him, more than anyone in his life—sexual partner or not—had ever brought to the surface.
It was here that Caera’s inexperience came fully to light. She had no comprehension of how to use her lips or tongue to gain the best pleasure from the kiss; Saul had to gather all his patience and knowledge together to prevent himself from simply devouring her.
“Sex comes after kissing, right?” Caera gasped, drawing away from him briefly.
“You sure do have a fascination with intercourse,” Saul retorted. His hands came up to her face, cupping her, holding her as she squirmed restlessly. “Usually, kissing would lead to what we did earlier, and then onto sex.”
Her eyes narrowed. “Usually?”
“That’s usually the way it goes,” he said agreeably.
“Are you saying no again?”
“I am if you’re asking for sex.” Her growl of frustration made him laugh. “Patience, my little blonde bunny. Don’t be in such a rush to experience the unknown.”
To his surprise, Caera curled her lip at him. He was tempted, seriously, to bite it. “I’m not a child, Saul. I’m twenty-one, I have something I don’t want any more, and by either fate or conspiracy, you’re the only one close enough to help me with the problem. I don’t care if it lasts five minutes or five hours.”
