Clio forced her spine straight and held her chin high. “Well . . . ?”
In calm strides, he walked to an armchair and sat down in it. When he spoke, his voice was dark as sin itself. “Take off the shift. Leave the stockings.”
Her arousal was instantaneous.
A hot blush pushed to her face as she loosed the same buttons she’d only just done up. He watched her as she disrobed, his bold gaze giving her nowhere to hide.
Even though this had been her idea, she felt strangely shy and exposed. But she suspected that her shyness was part of the fantasy for him, so she didn’t try to pretend otherwise.
“Good.” His gaze swept her bared body. “Now come undress me.”
She approached his chair in soft, catlike steps. With shaky fingers, she gathered the hem of his shirt and began to lift it high, exposing his sculpted masterpiece of a torso.
She was suddenly conscious that this would be different from any of the times they’d made love last night. Namely, there was sunlight now. They could see each other clearly. Rafe was so perfectly chiseled everywhere, it was difficult not to feel self-conscious.
But unless he was a very good actor, he seemed to be enjoying her body, too.
His eyes roamed her every curve. As she pulled the shirt over his head, she allowed her breasts to brush against his cheek. He sucked in his breath on a sharp hiss.
Then she dropped her gaze to the closures of his trousers. They would be difficult, if not impossible, to undo with him sitting in the chair.
“Did you mean to stand?” she asked.
“No.”
His meaning rocketed through her.
To remove them, she would have to go down on her knees.
The idea was shocking and wicked. She worked his trousers down, and he lifted his hips just an inch or two to help.
She eased the trousers lower, freeing the hard, eager length of his erection. Pure, unapologetic virility, staring her in straight the face.
Abashed, she dropped her gaze.
“Look,” he said. His brusque tone settled low in her belly. “Look what you did.”
Her cheeks burned. But Clio had proposed this game. She couldn’t disobey now. So she looked.
Had she done this, truly? All of it?
If so, she felt rather proud.
She put both hands on him, claiming as much of his thick, curved length as she could manage. Then she worked her hands up and down. “Am I doing it right?”
“Just right. Now—” His breath caught. “Now use your mouth on me.”
The crude command sent an erotic thrill chasing through her.
“How?”
“Start with your tongue.”
Bending her head, she gave the tip a tentative lick. “Like that?”
“Yes. Like that. All over.”
She swirled her tongue around the plum-colored head, then down the underside of his shaft. He smelled of soap and just-washed skin. She hadn’t expected him to be so soft. So soft, and so hard at the same time.
When she licked back up toward the tip, his breath caught. His hand moved to cradle the back of her head.
“Now like this.”
He nudged her open mouth over the crown, tangling his hand in her hair to guide her up and down.
Beyond that brief lesson, she didn’t need more encouragement. The lewdness of it excited her beyond anything she could have imagined. She worked to take him deeper, then a fraction deeper still—loving the fact that she’d never be able to take him all. Craving the taste of him, savoring the soft groans she pulled from his chest.
“Clio. God.”
He tightened his grip in her hair and gently pulled her away. She whimpered, disappointed.
“Stand,” he told her. “Spread your legs and straddle my lap.”
She did as he asked, working quickly. Her stocking snagged on the chair’s upholstery. She didn’t care.
“Lift your breasts,” he said, sounding impatient now. “Bring them to my mouth.”