“That tickles.”
Tristan smiled against her sensitive skin, his gaze lifting to her profile. He spread her hand open, and one by one he kissed the pad of each fingertip. Her lips parted with a soundless gasp. She swallowed and licked her lips and Tristan had to close his eyes and fight the groan rumbling up his throat. He was hard in his breeches already, his pelvis angled away from the inviting soft swell of her bottom. Her head tipped back, the arch of her throat begging for his mouth, but he held back. The loose sleeve of her robe gathered around her elbow as he lifted her arm higher and slowly kissed his way down the sensitive inner skin of her forearm.
“Oh, that feels lovely,” she whispered.
Tristan kissed his way back up, this time adding little licks of his tongue. Teasing flicks to add heat that quickly cooled. He couldn’t go lower than her elbow, not with the sleeve in the way. He kept her left hand tucked in his and shifted to reach for her right hand, repeating the same steps.
From there, he ran out of inspiration that didn’t take this journey quicker than she was ready for.
“How was that?” he murmured, leaning closer to breathe in her scent.
“Pleasant.” She opened her eyes and turned to look at him over her shoulder. “What’s next?”
“I think it best we go slow.”
“We have all night—” she blushed. “Or at least a few minutes longer. Is that all?”
“I don’t want to rush you.”
“We don’t have much time. I have to pick a suitor—sooner rather than later.”
Tristan cocked his head, the mention of another man and the image of that man touching her sparking his jealousy. “What did you have in mind? You are in control. Tell me what you want.”
“I don’t know what to ask for,” she said meekly.
Tristan turned away to hide his smile. Was she wound as tightly as he was—hungering and frustrated by this clawing need to be closer?
“You said you’d help me.”
“I did,” he turned back. “Happily—enthusiastically, even. So, tell me, what do you want to learn next?”
She pressed her lips together and frowned at him in concentration. “Kiss me again, but more. I know there is more to kissing than just lips touching. There is movement, and I want you to show me what a love bite is.”
Tristan stepped close again. “So kiss me, Flick.”
She narrowed her eyes. “Are you having fun with this? Do I amuse you?”
“I’m not amused. I’m aroused. And yes, this is quite fun. Flirtation is fun.”
Her eyes widened and her mouth popped open. “This is flirtation?”
“Flirtation, banter. What does it make you feel?”
“Annoyed.”
He chuckled. “And what do you want to do about it? Toss me out of the room? Or do you want me to do something that won’t annoy you? Perhaps kiss you?”
“That. The last thing.”
“The agitation you feel. It’s different from typical annoyance. More intense, isn’t it?” He stepped closer, his chest brushing her robe.
“Yes,” she whispered. “Like I want to crawl out of my skin.”
“And?”
“And into yours.” She gasped. “That’s horrific.”
He smiled. “You don’t want to crawl into my skin, your body wants to be against mine. May I put my arm around you?”
