“Do you have to ask at every step?” she asked impatiently.
“Yes, Flick. Every time. Unless you beg me and demand what you want from me, I will ask before I do anything to you, with you.”
“Then kiss me, Tristan.”
His arm slid around her, and he pulled her against him. His body sang with euphoria. She fit against him perfectly, like she was made for him. Shorter, but not too short. The top of her head came to his nose. Really, she was the perfect height for him.
She looked up at him, breath held in anticipation.
He smoothed her hair away, and then he tilted his head just so and kissed her. Her arms came around his neck and he deepened the kiss. Gently urging, but in no hurry to make her open her mouth. She’d get there. He led her with movements, tilting his head right then left, then he parted his lips and licked her bottom lip. Her hips curled into his and Tristan prayed the tied sash would do him the favor of disguising his hardened cock.
She moaned, bowing into him, swiveling her head and exploring his mouth before she made the move he’d been waiting for. She opened her mouth, just a little. Tristan licked the soft skin just inside her lip and she opened further, curious, he’d guess, about where this went. He opened his mouth and waited, inviting her in.
He slowed his breathing, unhurried, but anxious for her to do it. To feel the probing wet velvet and finally taste her.
She dipped her tongue into his mouth, and Tristan gave her an encouraging squeeze, running his hand down her spine but going no lower than the middle of her back. She tried again, slower, touching the tip of her tongue to his and it took every ounce of will in him to not ravage her mouth. She grew bolder, and Tristan moaned into the kiss, breaking to catch his breath and give her a chance to process.
“You taste divine, Flick.”
“Show me what to do.”
He sealed his mouth to hers, sliding his tongue against hers, showing her how they could thrust and tease, until they were both breathing frantically, and now, he had both arms around her, crushing her to him.
He broke away again, sucking in a breath and trying to clear the fog of lust from his head. He’d been celibate for too long. Every touch was magic. His cock pressed demandingly and painfully against the seam of the placket on his trousers. Her hands were in his hair, and he had trouble remembering what he was supposed to be doing other than kissing Flick witless.
“We have to stop.”
She sighed. “Why?”
“Because kissing you is too damn good.” He couldn’t say he was losing control. That might scare her. But he could feel his damn pulse in his cock. He had to get a hold of himself.
She touched her forehead to his shoulder and Tristan closed his eyes, using deep breaths to calm the storm inside him. His ardorcooled, and he could take a step back.
She gasped.
Tristan looked down. His trousers were obscenely tented.
“Is that what happens to men when they are aroused?”
He scrubbed a hand over his face. “Unfortunately.”
“Why is it unfortunate?” She was still staring at him, and it only made him harder.
“Because it is difficult to hide.”
At last, she looked up at him and she blushed. “This is because we were kissing?”
He nodded. Was this becoming another lesson? He might die if she asked to touch him.
“I’m glad I don’t have an appendage like that. Seems bothersome and in the way.”
Tristan swallowed a laugh and cleared his throat. “Well, yes. But it does have its perks.”
Wariness bloomed in her eyes. “What sort of perks, might that be?”
“It brings me and women pleasure.”
She stepped back further. “I don’t see how being stabbed with a man’s appendage can be pleasurable.”
