She nodded. “While you slept.”
Arthur thought of a detail. “I had discarded my nightshirt.” If he thought her cheeks had been red before, that had been but a faint promise of how they flushed now.
“You did,” she agreed, her voice tight.
She walked around him, looking him up and down, then reached out to touch him. Arthur closed his eyes at the light caress of her fingertips on his arm, feeling desire rise within him at her touch. Her hand slid from his arm to his shoulder. Her fingertips feathered down his back, up his spine and into his hair, down his back to dance across his buttocks. She traced a line across the top of his thigh as she circled him, then flattened her other hand against his side as she came to face him.
She was a temptress, and one who would destroy his control, undermining it a little more with each soft caress. Echoing his own exploration, she slid that hand over him, from hip to chest, letting her fingertips slip through the tangle of hair there. He had one glimpse of the mischief in her gaze, then she kissed one of his nipples, her tongue flicking it to attention just as he had teased her own. He felt her hair against his erection and closed his eyes, fighting his urge to carry her off and bury himself within her.
Leisurely.
He might die this afternoon of sweet pleasure, and he would be content all the same.
“Sweet torment?” she whispered and he looked to find her watching him through her lashes.
“Precisely,” he agreed and she smiled.
“Good. I should hate to be enduring it alone.”
Arthur began to laugh and lifted a hand to her cheek with the plan to reassure her, but she touched him, her fingers closing around him with a gentle surety that banished every thought from his head. Her gaze was fixed upon him and suddenly he could not think coherently. There was only Patience and her curiosity, Patience and her glorious eyes, Patience and her sweet mouth that demanded his kiss.
* * *
Something changedwhen she touched him. Patience saw the heat in Arthur’s eyes and saw how he caught his breath. He moved like lightning then, sweeping her into his arms and carrying her to the bed. She might have protested, but he kissed her to silence, stretching out beside her as one hand roved over her body. She should have felt brazen in her nudity, but the admiration in his touch made her want to preen.
She arched her back when his hand cupped her breast this time and dared to squirm when he teased her nipple to a peak. She kissed him back with more enthusiasm than she had allowed herself to show so far, and when he growled approval, she reached up to tangle her fingers in his hair and pull him closer. He was partly atop her, braced on one elbow as he kissed her and slid his hand down from her breast. She felt his fingers slide between her thighs, then gasped aloud when he touched her and a surge of heat raced through her.
“Oh!” she said, breaking their kiss.
He looked alarmed. “Did I injure you?”
“No! No, far from it.” She urged his hand back into place and her lips parted again when he touched her. She wanted to purr at the sensual languor that resulted, an irresistible combination of temptation and pleasure, again with the sense that there was more to be savored. She heard herself moan and Arthur settled against her again, his fingers moving more deeply against her until his thumb caressed that place with surety.
He chuckled. “It seems I introduce you to your most bewitching spot.”
“I can only hope it is uncommon for it to be worn callous,” she said before Arthur’s thumb stole every word from her lips. She gripped his shoulder more tightly and felt her lips part with pleasure.
“You are a siren,” he whispered, bending to capture her lips beneath his own. His kiss was rougher and hungrier, filled with a ferocity that made Patience want more. His hand moved against her, demanding her response with a surety she could not resist. “And you will hold me in thrall,” he growled against her neck.
But Patience was the one in thrall to his caress, and she could not find fault with that situation. She felt his finger slide inside her, first one and then the second, his kiss demanding her all even as his thumb drove her to madness. She felt lost in a storm, one in which Arthur was her only anchor, and she clung to him, surrendering to the sensation he provoked, trusting in him completely. The tide rose within her, relentless and thrilling, seizing every crumb of her attention and demanding that she surrender even more. She realized that Arthur teased her, tormenting her and then retreating, taking her to the cusp of something she could not name, then relenting in his caress. Again and again, he did this until he claimed her with his most demanding kiss yet. His thumb moved against her with new demand and she felt as if an explosion erupted within her, spilling heat and light in every direction.
Patience cried out with her release, shaking with its vigor and digging her nails into Arthur’s shoulder. She smiled at him even as she struggled to catch her breath, and he moved atop her with purpose. “It may pierce this first time,” he warned her, his voice low in her ear, then he moved against her. His hands were on her waist now, and she knew what would replace the demand of his fingers. She gasped only once, then felt a glorious satisfaction of being filled.
She opened her eyes to find Arthur looking down at her, his gaze still hot and intent. “Oh,” she said, stroking his shoulders as she smiled.
“Oh,” he echoed, watching her closely as he moved. The thrust rubbed against her, sending shivers through her once again, and she knew she flushed with delight.
“Arthur!” she said softly, her voice uncommonly low, and daringly lifted her knees to give him better access. When she saw the effect of her move in his reaction, she wrapped her legs around his waist. She heard his surprise in the way he caught his breath and saw desire in the glitter of his eyes.
“Siren,” he murmured, then moved again, both of them gasping at the sensation. He chuckled then gathered her close, making her feel both treasured and aroused as he moved with deliberation, conjuring the storm again. Patience felt a quickening that she already recognized, and noticed the tension in him.
“What do I do?” she whispered.
“You are doing it,” he said, his teeth gritted.
Patience laughed at the very suggestion. “I am doing nothing at all! You are doing all, and that is unfair. Let me inflict pleasure on you this time.”
He studied her, a welcome fire in his eyes, then moved quickly so that she was atop him. He pulled up her knees so she was seated there, then interlaced their fingers. “I am your captive, Patience,” he rumbled, looking entirely content with his situation. “Do with me as you will.”
