Angel in Scarlet (Bound and Determined #4)(28)

“That is not allowed. I want to know everything.” And he really did. And that tremor of nerves really was quite delightful. His prick moved against his leg, its interest growing.

“I have not refused. I merely admit that it makes me nervous, and I have come to dislike being nervous. I always like to think I know what is going to happen.”

Well, that certainly would not be the case in this little game. It was time for him to show some honesty. “I am afraid you will be disappointed, then. I do like seeing you on edge; I like it very much—and I truly think you will come to like it too.”

Her glance dropped and then rose again bravely. “I am trying to trust you, but it is not easy. I admit you have mostly been right about what I would like—except for Granderson. I did not like that at all.”

“Not at all?” He was going to push her as far as he could.

She closed her eyes for a moment, the lashes dark against her white skin, not looking at him as she spoke. “Not really. The touch was not bad, but I was always aware that it was not you.”

“And you wanted it to be me touching you?”

She was quiet. She opened her eyes and stared at him. “Yes. I wanted it to be you touching me. I think I am willing to try almost anything if it is you.”

“That is a good start on honesty.”

She smiled slightly and the flush remained on her cheeks.

“And do you really like to please me?” He wanted to see if she recognized this quality in herself.

Her eyes dropped again. “You have chided me for doing things just to please someone, to conform to what society expects.”

“But this is different and you know it.”

She looked up, pulled a deep breath in, her breasts pressed hard against the still-loose bodice, straining against the delicate lace. “Yes, I like to please you. I don’t know why. You do not make yourself likable, and yet something warms in me when you smile with pleasure.”

He didn’t want to believe her. It would be so much easier to dismiss her from his thoughts if he could pretend that she lied, but he could not avoid seeing the honesty in her eyes. She did not like her answer any more than he. He forced the answer to his lips, even as his body rejoiced. “Good. None of this would work if you did not feel that way. Now, I think it is time to please me some more.”

“Whatever you desire.” Her lips trembled.

His already stiff prick grew even more at her words. “And what do you think I’d like?” He allowed his eyes to settle on the tops of her breasts.

She sat up straight and, bringing her hands forward, ran them over the tops of her breasts. “I think you like it when I touch myself.”

“I would say that is a good start.” He leaned back in his chair, letting his hips shift forward.

Her eyes darted to the flap of his trousers and then returned to his face. He smiled inwardly. If he had his way, he’d keep her blushing in that fashion the whole night long.

“And what would you like me to do next?” Her fingers continued to trail across the top edge of the bodice, just above the lace border. She moved slowly, very slowly.

He let his eyes follow the back-and-forth movement for a few moments, not answering.

The rate of her breathing increased as he did nothing but watch, watch and wait.

Yes, he did like her nervous.

“Lick your fingers,” he said. She brought her hands to her mouth.

“Do it slowly, deeply; imagine what else you might lick in such a fashion.”

Confusion showed on her face. Ah, she could be such a sweet innocent. It would be delightful to teach her, if he truly let things progress that far. It was so difficult to gauge quite how far he should let this go. He had meant it when he said he did not like the idea of stealing a maiden’s virtue. That was something that should be saved for a husband. He would never be responsible for sending a lady to ruin. Perhaps that was why he was so careful of traps. If it ever came down to it, his basic moral code would force him to do the right thing.

Still, given that they had not even touched each other yet, his thoughts were moving ahead of themselves. Perhaps that was the plan for tonight, to see just how far this could proceed without actual touching.

And then her tongue came out, and she licked the whole length of her index finger. He lost all sense of thought. Her eyes were on him; there was still question in them, but she was not a woman to do something halfway. She stroked her tongue along the finger, stopping and starting again.

He groaned, his mind filled with exactly how she could use that mouth, with exactly how it would feel to have her tongue trace along his cock.

Her eyes dropped to his lap. He moved and stroked himself through the fabric of his trousers. It was something, but not much. God, he wished it were her lips upon him.

He stroked again, outlining his length, moving his hand in time with her tongue.

Her eyes stayed on his lap; she caught the doubling of their rhythm, saw how he matched himself to her. He watched as understanding grew in her eyes, as color once again blossomed upon her cheeks. It was amazing what one could teach without saying a word.

“What do you want me to do now?” she breathed.

“Bring your wet fingers back to your chest; feel how different they are. Do you feel the coolness, the shiver?”

“Yes.”

And he could see that she truly did shiver as she touched herself.