He mustn’t be angry with me. Althea insisted I behave. I should not have done this, certainly not before she met with Cheltie. Contrite, she slid a look at him through her lashes.
“Are you wearing it?” he whispered, running his gaze over her.
“I beg your pardon. I should not have taken it without your leave, Robert. Truly, I am sorry.”
“We shall discuss it after dinner.”
A sharp thrill shot through her at the idea of being alone with him after dinner, as she had hoped.
They reached the dining room, and he pulled out a chair for her. “But are you wearing it?”
As she lowered herself, the leather garment stretched over her bottom and grew tighter between her legs. The bulge nestled directly against her already-swollen nub, exerting gentle pressure. Her breath caught.
“I shall take that as a yes.” His smile was grim as he strode away and down the length of the table.
Beth shifted her weight from side to side, varying the position and pressure of the bulge.
’Tis like having a finger on my button as I sit here fully clothed. Delicious.
Robert reappeared across from her, seating himself with his gaze narrowed on her.
His surveillance stimulated her as much as the friction of the drawers. Of course, it helped that when he looked at his plate to eat, she’d circle her hips in a tiny wiggle on the chair. She was starting to wonder if it was deliberate rather than a flaw and was impressed with his foresight.
Watching Robert watch her also made her nervous. Without these, would he have spent more time with her? Should she simply return them and move on? After all, men and women seemed interested only until they’d bedded her, then they grew bored. Men in particular seemed to like the chase. And since she had not provided Robert with a challenge, in fact had pursued him, he was probably considering his next conquest.
She wished she hadn’t taken these.
No, she shouldn’t overthink. He intrigued her. Her parents would remind her it did not matter who pursued whom. What was important was whether the two people were compatible. And their interlude would end with the party. Putting aside her fears, she vowed to make his and her own evening entertaining.
Catching his eye, she took a bite of pigeon, swiveled her hips deliberately, then moaned.
“Stop that,” he hissed, frowning.
“Oh, but this meal is so…pleasurable. Have you tasted the…meat?”
He narrowed his eyes.
She widened hers innocently.
Spearing a bite of pigeon, he popped it in his mouth, then choked on it at her next words.
“I think they marinated it in peach juice.” She referenced his encouraging comment to her from the night before.
Coughing, he glared at her from behind his serviette. “I do not play in public.”
She smirked. “I was simply enjoying my meal.” Her voice was low to be heard underneath the buzz of others’ conversations around them. “Look around. No one sees anything amiss.”
He slid his eyes left and right without moving his head, his neck stiff.
Was he really that worried?
That made her nervous. She loved group settings, enjoyed flirting and more. She’d never cared whether the act itself was private, as her priority was always enjoyment for everyone involved. If someone did not want to see an activity she was engaged in, they could leave the room or the stable. If Robert was that stodgy, her actions would frustrate him quickly.
His jaw relaxed a fraction, and she nearly sighed with relief. The shift touched off sparks from the lump in her drawers, and her sigh became a sucked-in breath.
He tilted his head at her, seeming to concur with her assessment of their privacy. Slicing another bite, he brought it to his lips. Rather than chewing it, however, he sucked on it.
She held her breath.
