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.”
“Oh.” So there would be no thrusting and shoving into her, no fighting a man’s weight atop her. She eyed him with suspicion. “You really would accept it if I stopped in the middle and pulled myself off of you?”
“I swear on my mother’s grave,” he said solemnly. “You will have me utterly at your mercy.”
“All right, then.” She swallowed hard. “I want to try it.”
His cock, which had been flagging through the discussion, shot straight up. “You do?”
“I—I can’t promise to endure it for long, but I want to try.”
“That’s all I ask.”
With a determined nod, she knelt above him on the seat, straddling his hips. Though she’d understood his directions, it proved trickier than she’d expected.
“I can help,” he said. “Or you can take my cock with your hand and guide it in.”
That hadn’t occurred to her. And she did that. In the meantime, he started rubbing her nipples with his hands, making her feel quite . . . heated, and before she’d even realized it, she was sliding down upon him. To her shock, though his cock felt intrusive inside her, there was no pain. No pain at all. Just some tightness.
Her gaze flew to him. “It . . . it doesn’t hurt!”
“Good.” He didn’t say, “I told you so,” or, “Ta-da!” or anything. Indeed, he looked as if he were having difficulty just breathing. His eyes were closed, his jaw taut enough to cut glass. “God help me, minx. You feel incredible.”
The rough timbre of his voice sent a feminine thrill through her that made her relax and slide down a bit more. “Do I?”
“Like silk. Hot, enveloping silk.” He gave an undulating move that sent him farther up inside her, then gritted his teeth. “Sorry. I wasn’t supposed to do that, I know. It’s just . . . you feel so damned wonderful.”
“So do you. I think.” Thank God Yvette had been right. How much it hurt definitely depended on the man’s approach.
“You think?” he echoed, a thread of amusement in his voice.