One part of him reveled in the peace he felt with her in his arms, suffused with a desire to stay like this all night. Another part was planning his next incursion, considering how he might take her again. She’d been so incredibly responsive, he was certain she would agree to anything.
And yes, another part of him was thinking about her brother, Charles, of all the times as a boy he had teased and tormented Dev, making his life a living hell. Paddington stood out in his memory as one of the worst of the lot but now, with the things Tildy had told him about their childhood, it was clear he had been acting from a deep sense of insecurity.
Not that this fact absolved him.
Nothing could.
But Dev did feel a tiny prick of guilt for his desire for revenge.
Not for what he’d done though. He could never regret that.
He crooked his neck so he could look down on her as she slept, with her cheek resting against his shoulder. Her huffs of breath skated over his chest and her fingers worked idly on his skin as she dreamed about…what?
He hoped it was something wonderful.
Maybe she was dreaming about him.
He longed to wake her, but knew she needed her rest, so he tightened his hold, closed his eyes and willed himself to sleep.
And he must have slept—and he dreamed of her—for he awoke in the clutch of the most exquisite sensation. It was centered in his groin, a velvet suction.
At once he realized what it was and his eyes flew open.
And good God in heaven above.
It was Tildy, with her head in his lap.
Exploring him.
With her mouth.
Savage passion whipped through his veins. All his muscles locked. His heart stuttered.
Ah God. She was so untrained. Her licks and laps, her nibbles and strokes drove him to distraction…but they certainly had the effect she was seeking…if she was, indeed, seeking to drive him mad with lust.
She realized he was awake and stopped to peer at him. It was a mischievous glance, one that sent a lance of predatory lust through him. He was struck again at her beauty, her raw allure, the perfection of her.
“You were sleeping,” she said, by way of an excuse.
“So you started without me?” The words were difficult to force out because his throat had closed in on itself.
“I hope you don’t mind.”
Mind?
No. No. He did not mind.
“Come here.”
She shook her head; her curls danced. “I like this.” She fisted his cock and lifted it off his belly and lapped at the tip.
His eyes crossed.
“Why is it wet?” She’d asked that before and he hadn’t answered. He realized he’d better or she would only find more ways to drive him insane.
“It’s preparing for you.”
“For me?” Her grin was enormous. “I enjoyed watching it grow. Why did it grow?”
Oh, she would be the death of him. He was certain of it. “Tildy, come here.”
“Why did it grow?”
“Because,” he growled. “It was preparing for you.”
She sighed and gave him another brain-melting suckle. “That’s no answer and you know it.”
“Tildy. Please.”
She batted her lashes. “Who’s begging now?”
“It is hardly a challenge for you to make me beg.” She was, in a word, a siren. An innocent but inherently sensual siren, who was clearly put on this earth to bring men to their knees. “Come here.”
With a pout, she released her treasure and scooted up the bed to his side. He rolled her onto her back and kissed her. “Where on earth did you get the idea to kiss me there?”
Her eyes widened. “I… I just wanted to.”
Oh, God have mercy.
“Did I do something wrong?”
He hated the flash of anguish in her eyes. He hated the very thought she might be put off such exploration in the future. That would be a disaster of monumental proportions, he was certain. “Not at all. It was inspired. And I loved it.”
“Oh thank heaven—”
“But it is usually a thing a woman must be tutored to do.”
Her brows lowered. “Tutored?”
“Yes. Usually a man will show her how pleasurable it can be, by doing the same, only first.”
“The same?”
“Let me show you.”
She was silent as he made his way over the velvet landscape that was her body—which was a mercy, because he did not want to have to stop and explain things or answer questions. He was slow and thorough, taking the time to bring her breasts to fullness and suckle her nipples to hard points. Then he made love to her belly and hips and, finally, found himself at the crux of her thighs. He settled between them and glanced at her.
Her eyes were glazed as she stared at him, her mouth agape.
She needed no tutoring to spread further, giving him room to work.
And go to work he did.
It was a luscious labor.
Her flavor was divine, for one thing, with a slight hint of roses and musk—with a dampness that exulted him—but it was her response he adored the most.
She went wild.
As he lapped and toyed with her pearl, she fisted her fingers in his hair and rode his mouth as though he were her pony. Her cataclysm was quick in coming, but he endeavored to stave it off, to make her simmer, to make her strive.