Nor trysted upon abandoned stretches of midnight beaches.
He simply wasn’t that sort of man.
His bedsport took place upon firm mattresses clad in cotton sheets—or on the odd chaise longue in a pinch.
And yet…
Here he was, gone midnight, stretched out on a beach on the verge of tupping a woman outdoors.
And not just any woman.
Delilah.
For her, he was that sort of man.
Beneath pale moonlight and stars that winked their faraway brilliance, she stood before him, golden hair curled against her elegant neck, her breasts bare, taut, and proud. They were the most perfectly formed breasts he’d ever beheld. Breasts didn’t need to be large to be perfect. So many men never understood that.
She bit her bottom lip between her teeth, and her fingers found the waistband of her skirt and tugged, loosening a button, then another. The garment fell to the sand on a muted shush, leaving Delilah as naked as Venus on her half shell.
His cock had been full before now.
Now it was adamantine.
“Come closer,” he found himself saying, willing himself to remain sprawled on the ground.
It was all he could do not to ravish her here and now—for Delilah looked in need of a thorough ravishing.
And he was just the man to give it to her.
The only man.
She lowered to her knees beside him. Her gaze steady, unflinching, she said, “Now it’s your turn.”
He didn’t need to be told twice. Over his head went his shirt, and the boots were kicked off his feet. He reached for the fall of his trousers, and her hand covered his, stopping him. “And it’s my turn again,” she said, mischief and intention in her eyes.
Again, he leaned back onto his elbows. Her tongue darted out to swipe across her bottom lip as her gaze roved over him. Shoulders…chest…stomach… She liked what she saw.
But he’d known that.
She had to have what she saw.
Thatwas new.
Her gaze landed on the long, thick outline of his cock, and it throbbed—hard—in response. He’d long suspected Lady Delilah Windermere would be the death of him, but it was only now that possibility became certainty.
If she didn’t touch him soon, he would surely turn to dust.
Fingers that trembled slipped one button from its loop. Then another, and another. Anticipation and lust built inside Sebastian to the breaking point. What sort of idea was it to allow a virgin to take the lead in a seduction, anyway?
His cock—free,finally—lay across his stomach, exposed, hard, and ready. She feathered her fingers across its long length. He sucked in a sharp breath.
A little smile tipped one corner of her mouth. “That couldn’t have hurt.”
A dry laugh escaped him.Virgins.He’d never been with one, and he was coming to find that one was enough. “Delilah,” he said, her name a raw scrape against his throat. “What you’re going to do now is wrap your hand around my shaft.” Warm fingers closed around him. “And stroke along its length.”
“Like this?” She squeezed tighter and tugged.
Bright sensation sparked through Sebastian, pulling all his muscles taut, sending lightning through his veins, pinpricking his skin with a light sheen of sweat. He reached out. He had to touch her. This passivity didn’t suit him. “Delilah, you know what to do.”
