She moaned into his mouth and ground her pelvis against his erection, and his eyes nearly rolled into the back of his head.
“Christ, Maria,” he moaned. “I want to?—”
Unable to evenprocesshis desires, let alone voice them, Jasper cupped her painted jaw and brought his lips back down to hers.
“You want to what?” she whispered against his lips. “Tell me. Please?”
“I want to touch you,” he blurted. Once the words were out, however, he couldn’t seem to stop the flow, his voice low and unhurried “I want to tangle my fingers in your hair and have you with my mouth while I bring you to climax with my hands. I want to press you against this wall and kiss your intimate folds while I penetrate you with my fingers.Hell, Maria, I want to sink myself inside you and bring pleasure to us both.”
Her pupils dilated, her cheeks flushed, and her breath came fast between parted, reddened lips. Damn, but he could scarcely wait to taste them again.
“Then do it,” she breathed.
Jasper’s cock twitched, but he internally rebuked the eager thing. “I cannot take you in the street, no matter how much I might desire it. You deserve better.”
Her gaze was heavy-lidded and needy as she gripped him tighter about the shoulders. “The fog is too thick; no one can see. Please, Jasper.”
She kissed him again, and he could feel his resolve slipping. He couldn’t make love to her against a brick wall, but he could certainly satisfy some of their needs and give her pleasure—as long as the fog held. Indeed, in her men’s breeches, access to her with hands or mouth needn’t require removing any clothes at all. None of her skin would touch the brick façade, for with a gentle tug and a broader stance, she would be entirely bared for his delectation.
Quavering heat whirled in his belly and stiffened his cock to nigh-painful rigidity.
He broke off their kiss and clasped her gloved hand, leading her further into the darkened alcove, his pulse racing and breath coming hard. Next, his gloves; he tugged them off and swiftly stashed them in his coat pocket. Leaning his body gently against her, he let her feel the hard ridge of him pressing against her pelvis as he took her mouth in another searing kiss.
A sigh escaped her, her breath sweet and warm against his cheek, and his cock twitched once more.
His trembling fingers found the buttons of her falls, and unfastened them. Brushing aside the loose fabric to hang between her legs, he reached inside, and—holy hell, she didn’t wear small clothes. His pulse thrummed as his fingers hovered above her folds.
“Are you certain that you wish to do this?” he asked, unable to hide the needy desperation in his voice.
“Yes,” she whispered back. “Oh, Jasper, yes!”
His heart leapt, and he nudged Maria’s legs wider before he carefully delved one finger into her heat.
* * *
Somewhere in theback of Maria’s mind, the thought hovered that she ought to be concerned about her lack of modesty, but all she felt was the rush of anticipation and desire. She hadn’t the faintest notion of what he would do with her, but she trusted him.
Then a finger brushed through her intimate curls to spread her open, and all thoughts of modesty fled.
“My God, Maria,” he breathed reverently, his breath brushing against her lips. “You’re so wet for me.”
Before she could think of a response, he brushed a fingertip over her cleft, pulling a gasp from her lungs and sending a jolt of pleasure through to her core.
“That’s it,” Jasper whispered.
The knowledge that Jasper—Jasper, for pity’s sake!—was touching her so intimately was phantastic, indeed. But she wanted to touch him, too.
“Might I—” Her breath hitched as he dipped a finger inside her, gathering her wetness before returning his attention to her cleft. She moaned. “I want to touch you, if you’ll let me.”
His eyes slid closed on a groan and he nodded. “Yes. Please touch me, Maria. I need your hands on me.”
Emboldened by his open need, she made quick work of his falls and small clothes, all while his fingers explored and teased. His erection sprang free, thick and long, jutting from a nest of dense black curls. The head was reddened and leaking a clear fluid that glistened in the dim light.
She hadn’t the faintest notion of what to do. If that were to fit inside her, like his fingers—oh!—were doing at just that moment, she could presume that rubbing the exterior of his shaft would be akin to the sensation of being inside her.I need your hands on me, he’d said.
Assuaging her curiosity and acting on her assumption, she touched her fingers to his shaft. It bounced, and he grunted, his eyes dark.
His fingers moved, circling and whirling, tightening the coil of need inside her.
