He sat down in the creek, doing his best to study her lather creation and not her gorgeous bare body. “What’s an ermine?”
“A large European weasel.” A rivulet of soap tickled her breasts as it slid over her chest. “In actuality I have a pile of soap on my head, Roman.”
“It looks more like a weasel hat. Say it’s a weasel hat.”
“I already have.” She sank into the water beside him. “Oh, my goodness. These creek pebbles—”
“They feel good on your bare bottom, huh?” He reached for her and pulled her closer. “All round and smooth.”
“Round and smooth,” she mused aloud, looking at him from the corner of her eye. “My bottom or the pebbles?”
He saw an alluring smile in her eyes. “I know an invitation when I hear one, Theodosia,” he murmured huskily.
“Sir, I do not know what you’re talking about.”
“No? Well, let me show you, miss.”
She moaned with deep excitement when he scooped her into his arms and laid her over his lap. His skin was so warm, the water so cool.
He threaded his long fingers through her hair, and she felt her soap hat spill off. His lather beard dripped to her chest. She cupped her breasts, smoothing the suds around and around and around…
The sight of her caressing her own breasts caused Roman to shudder with desire. His arm beneath her neck, he lifted her face to his, and as he kissed her, he slipped his hand between her thighs and his fingers into her womanly depths.
She’d been prepared to savor the slow delicious journey toward pleasure, but her bliss peaked instantly, rippling all through her body as the creek water rippled over her skin. She arched high, her head dipping into the water.
Roman decided she would have drowned if he hadn’t been holding her. “God, Theodosia,” he said when she finally stilled in his arms, “I’m sorry you weren’t ready. I should have spent more time getting you going.”
She had the grace to give him an embarrassed expression but felt no shame at all. Her body responded to Roman’s sensual skills like a musical instrument in the hands of a master, and the resulting melody was too beautiful to resist or hold back.
Gazing into his eyes, she realized she wanted to give him the same pleasure he’d offered her. It didn’t matter that she was uncertain about how to go about it; she knew he would teach her.
She wriggled off his lap and sat in front of him.
Her hands around his waist, she rubbed her thumbs gently across his tight belly, then glanced downward. “Roman, your lance is lunging completely out of the water.”
He threw back his head and laughed. “Yeah, the old sword of passion is definitely thrusting, huh?”
Carefully, she took him into her hand, loving the soft groan her action caused him. “It’s throbbing.”
“Masculinities have a way of doing that when touched by a beautiful woman.”
She smiled. “I think perhaps that I shall conduct an experiment, Roman.”
The suggestive tone in her voice set him afire. “What kind of experiment?”
“An experiment in the name of science. Sexy science,” she added, tightening her hold on him. “It has already been proven that flaming spikes have the ability to throb, but I shall now attempt to discover what else they are capable of doing.”
He couldn’t answer right away. He gritted his teeth. He took deep breaths. He tried to think of everything but what she was saying, doing, planning.
Finally, he replied. “Theodosia, I am about to explode in your hand,” he warned.
She saw the tight expression on his face. “But I haven’t even done anything yet.”
“You don’t have to. Just the thought…just the feel of your hand…for God’s sake, woman, just the sound of your voice is driving me insane.”
“You look as though you are in extreme pain.”
“I am.”
