The Study of Seduction (Sinful Suitors, #2)(80)

He dragged in a hot breath. She was naked except for her stockings and garters. And he’d never seen anything lovelier in his life—skin smooth as alabaster, plump breasts with rosy little nipples, and a curly thatch a hand’s width below her saucily crooked navel.

“Whiting was a fool,” he said as he drank his fill. “To trample over all this glorious beauty without even taking his time to explore.”

A faint smile curved up her lips. “Which means you’ll be the first to explore. If you like.”

His pulse tripled. “I like,” he rasped. “I like very much.”

“Then go to it,” she whispered. “Because I like very much having your hands and mouth on me.”





Twenty-One


When he reached for Clarissa, the look in his eyes heated her blood. How strange that it seemed natural to be naked before him, to be wrapped in his arms as his mouth kissed and laved and licked her breasts, her belly, her . . . tender parts. Which felt hot and aching for him. And wet. Very, very wet.

You weren’t “oiled.” That’s why it hurt so much.

Oh, how she prayed he was right. But Edwin never lied. He was very matter-of-fact, even about her being unchaste.

I understood you. I simply don’t give a damn.

He didn’t, did he? He only cared about how she’d been hurt, and he showed it now by being so tender, it made tears well in her throat all over again. “Oh, Edwin . . . I wish I’d told you long ago . . .”

Pausing to gaze up her, he said, “You weren’t ready to tell me. I understand that.” He bent to lick her down there, sending her up on her toes with excitement. Eyes gleaming at her, he murmured, “Shall I do what I did in the carriage?”

“Later,” she breathed. “I haven’t yet had a chance to explore you.”

He gave her a blank look.

“I want to see you naked, too. I want to caress all the parts of you.” She reached forward to drag his shirt off over his head, then pulled away to look at him, but it was hard to see him properly when he was seated. “Lean back a bit.”

With a lift of one imperious brow, he did, letting his legs fall open with a certain insolence that should have alarmed her.

It did not. Because he was down there, and she was up here.

And my oh my, how fascinating this was. She could look at him as much as she pleased without being afraid he might leap on her. Surprisingly excited, she swept her gaze over the muscular shoulders, chest, and lean waist she’d already seen but hadn’t touched, for fear of sparking his lust.

Then once again she took in the sight of the thick cock thrusting up from his nest of black curls. She still didn’t see how it could fit inside her, but she had to admit it had a strange beauty all its own.

And the way it bobbed under her gaze made her want to laugh. But she knew Edwin wouldn’t find that amusing.

Her gaze continued down over the well-wrought thighs she hadn’t yet seen to the handsome calves that always looked so fine in evening attire, and then roamed back up. “Can I . . . touch you?”

“God, yes,” he growled. Then, as if worried he was being too fierce, he added, “Please.”

With a little thrill of anticipation, she stepped forward. All the male beauty she’d coveted was now hers to fondle without fear. He’d said they could stop whenever she wanted, and she believed him.

Amazing how freeing it was, to know she could balk if she wished. Perversely, it prompted her to be bolder, to smooth her hands over everything—his arms, his chest, his thighs—to relish the different textures of hair and smooth skin and rough calluses. To feel his muscles flex and tighten beneath her touch.

What delicious wickedness! And nothing at all like suffering the sordid gropings of the Vile Seducer.

She brushed the head of his cock, and he swore under his breath. Jerking her hand back, she said, “I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

“It doesn’t hurt,” he ground out. “It just . . . makes me want you all the more. Perhaps we should return to letting me explore you.”

Suddenly nervous, but also intrigued, she gazed down at the hard male form before her. “Or you could show me what you were talking about. Show me how a woman makes love to a man.”

He went still. “I could.” He searched her face. “If you’re sure.”

“I am.” She thought she was, anyway.

“Very well.” Drawing his legs together, he leaned forward to catch her by the hips and tug her toward him. “We’ll start with you sitting astride me, on my thighs.”

How curious. “Like this?” she asked as she straddled him as far away from his cock as she could get.

“If I promise not to ravish you, will you come a little nearer? You’re hurting my knees.”

“Oh! Sorry.” She scooted closer. Now his cock reared up between them, just brushing her damp curls. “I still don’t see how it would work like this.”

“It wouldn’t,” he said, his voice oddly strained. “But if you were to choose to make love to me, you’d plant your knees on the seat on either side of me. Rising up on them, you’d fit yourself onto my cock, however slowly or quickly you liked, rather like pulling a glove onto your hand. If it hurt too badly, you could rise up and get right off. If you found it pleasant, you could inch down more. You would choose how far up inside your glove my hand should go.”