Her breath was coming out in short pants, and her heart was racing so fast she thought she feared it would burst. She could feel wetness dampening her inner thighs and hoped—prayed—Cassian would not feel it.
His hand dropped on her bottom once more, stinging and hard, and it punched her breath out. As she let out a breath of relief, Cassian’s hand smoothed over her hot skin. She hoped he would leave her in peace and leave her without allowing himself to slip under her clothes.
She was not prepared to hear the pull of a cork and something drizzle on the flat of her lower back before running down between the cheeks of her bottom.Lavender oil. He ran his hands, slick with oil, through the sheer fabric over her derrière.
“What… what are you doing?”
“Making sure you do not bruise,” Cassian replied as he kneaded the oil into her skin. “Your skin is like freshly spun silk—it would be a travesty to have it all mottled.”
Under his touch, she squirmed again, now desperate to get out of his tantalizing grasp. Cassian asked, “Is it that sensitive?”
“N-no, it’s…” How did she tell him she was aroused? “I—I—”
His hand slipped past the fabric and between her legs, a small mistake she was sure, but then his fingers spread over her inner thighs. “I don’t think that is the oil, sweetheart…”
“Cassian,” she breathed, attempting to stop him, “I need to go and—”
His hand slid lower between her thighs, and her breath hitched as his touch trailed down the crease of her bottom. His fingers dipped lower, and she gasped when they touched her most intimate place.
“You arenotgoing anywhere.”
His voice was nearly a croon, and the satisfaction in his tone caused more heat to trickle from her. She did not know what to do with herself with the way he was stroking her quim as if she were her mother's prized Persian cat.
With how she was positioned, his fingers delved lower, finding a tender bud that pushed another moan from her throat. The sensation flooded her senses. He kept a steady onslaught on her sensitive bud, and Cecilia writhed under his touch.
“Have you ever touched yourself this way?” Cassian murmured.
Lost in the sensation, Cecilia allowed his question to go through one ear and out the other. His hard smack on her bottom jolted her into the present, and she gasped out, “No, I haven’t!”
“That’s a shame for you,” he rumbled. “But not for me. I am pleased as punch to initiate you into a world of sensory decadence.”
“And depravity,” she gasped when his fingers tore out a ragged cry from her.
“Oh, sweetheart…” he teased coolly, “You haven’t the faintest.”
The slick sound of her body as he rubbed her pearl and folds sounded obscene, and while Cecilia was concerned about how he had such mastery of her body—she was not sorry about it.
She felt a finger probe deeper, touching her where she’d never been touched before, and gasped when a long finger slid inside. She squeezed her eyes tight as the wave of pleasure inside built and built. The finger inside her was stationary while his thumb circled her bud with frenzy, and the demand of touch catapulted her into bliss.
Another finger slid inside her and pumped as she crested on ecstasy, his intimate caresses keeping her small bursts of pleasure sizzling through her veins.
When Cecilia finally returned from heaven to earth, she was utterly spent and as limp as a rag doll. She was hazily aware of when he set her clothing to rights and pulled her up against him.
His mouth fell to her ear. “That is theleastof the depravity I can offer. Now, admit it, you are not as repulsed by me as you say you are.”
“I…” she breathed in, “…I will admit that.”
“Earlier, you were so tense, you could have put a bar of iron to shame,” Cassian remarked. “Mind telling me why?”
She wilted against his chest, “I… I got some disturbing news today from Rosie. Gabriel the Faultless is spreading more lies about me. He is… he is working the press into another Great Fire of London and scorching me with it.”
“You are not fighting fire, sweetheart. At most, what you are fighting is a pillar of smoke Whitmore has erected to take the bad attention off himself. You need to shoo the smoke away.”
Craning her head, Cecilia looked at him. “You are right.”
His lips curved at the corner, “I usually am.”
She hesitated, “In theory… what would you do to shoo that distraction away?”
