“What else do you want, Artemis?”
It was her turn, he was saying.
This felt so novel, giving voice to her wants.
Almost transgressive.
But if she didn’t want to die of longing on the spot, she would have to risk this unknown—and speak her desire.
And this man would move heaven and earth to give it to her.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
Anervy tremble fizzing through her, Artemis let her thighs fall open.
“I want you …”
She could stop there, really.
I want you.
No other words necessary.
But this was a game, and those three words weren’t.
“I want you to skim your tongue along the inside of my thigh.”
The black of his pupils expanded and pushed irises into thin bands of gold—desire.“Which one?”
She lifted her left leg and dug her heel into a crevice in the stone. “This one.”
It wasn’t only access she offered him, but a view, too. Something dark and sinuous passed behind his eyes. She shivered.
He shifted forward. “Your legs are one of God’s most magnificent creations,” he said, taking her thigh in hand to steady it as he bent and touched his tongue to that sensitive flesh. So warm and soft, yet firm—purposeful—as he took his time inching up her thigh.
When her breath wasn’t caught in her lungs, it was sighing and sometimes whimpering. So utterly left unattended, her sex was bereft. It craved … it ached … for what was so close … and yet would remain so far away if she didn’t give voice to her want. He would give her everything, but she had to say … “I want your fingers to …”
Oh, could she say it?
Oh, could shenotsay it?
“I want your fingers to touch methere.” She had yet another want to voice. “And I want one to enter me.”
Oh, the wicked smile that curved his mouth as he said, “I live to obey.”
Artemis found parts of her springing to life, responding to this reciprocity between them, as she planted her hands behind her and rested back, her body open to him. Their gazes locked, his fingers found her, brushing across her slit, wet and swollen with desire.
A long moan poured from her. “I want you to kiss me while you touch me.”
Oh, the wicked smile that curled about his mouth.
He angled forward, and she was able to take one last sip of air—air that was warm and musky andBran—before his mouth was on hers, lips firm and soft, as one of his long, rough fingers pushed inside her. She groaned into his mouth, their tongues tangling.
She’d asked for this.
She wanted this.
Could it truly be this easy to have what her heart desired?
