“I have no second thoughts.” He walked over to me and held out a glass. The prolonged anticipation in his stark gaze sparkedmy own. He rocked back on his heels, teeth gleaming white in the dim light.
“Thank you.” I took the crystal goblet and lifted it to my nose. Inhaling the nutty scent, I sipped at the tawny port and watched as he took his seat. “Is this French?”
“Very French,” he said, tipping his glass in my direction. Blue eyes met mine, the soft glow of the lamplight casting his face in shadows. His closeness added to my heightened awareness that we were alone.
He rubbed a hand over his chin and arched his neck. “You mentioned a friend in France who owned a winery. Well, I believe you said a couple.”
“Yes, they were very kind. They took me in when I needed a distraction from, well, you know.” I shrugged and uncrossed my legs. The answer was an easy one, yet it was complicated. I drank more of my wine, needing to ground my thoughts and not allow the heaviness of my past to overcome me.
“You had, um, relations with both of them? A man and a woman?” he asked, his tone husky and raw. “I didn’t think, well, I guess I never thought about such things before.”
“It can be very stimulating, to say the least,” I said, allowing myself to relax deeper into the chair. “But I don’t think you’re at that stage yet.”
“Amelia seems rather enamored of you,” he said, lowering his head.
My easiness lessened at the comment. Either he was asking if her affections were returned, or he was suggesting something more titillating. I couldn’t tell him about our interlude on the floor of my room. I still had images of her pert breasts, nipples pebbled and ready for my mouth. “She and I are friends.”
“I think there’s more than friendship between you.”
“You will believe what you will.” I stared into the glass for a long moment. “If I deny it, would you believe me?”
“I want to believe you are lying.” He drank the contents of his glass, exposing the underside of his chin. A shadow of a beard covered his jaw, and I wanted to stroke a finger down his neck. “If you were attracted to Amelia, and she you, then perhaps the three of us might work something out.”
“Are you suggesting the three of us share a bed?” I swirled the liquid in my glass and tilted my head, studying his cautious gaze. The thought crossed my mind more than once, but it had been a fantasy, born of my active imagination.
“Yes, I guess I am.” A sheepish grin split his lips. He strode to my side and, placing his hands on either side of my head, stared deep into my eyes. I wanted those hands to explore my body, his fist to cradle my cock while I kissed him senseless. “Hear me out before you say no.”
I cupped the back of his neck and brought his head down, brushing my lips over his. “I’m all ears.”
“You know my limitations. If you helped me get to a hardened state on my wedding night, I would be able to consummate my marriage to Amelia. And she’d be able to explore her passions for you in return.”
“I won’t bed your wife. Any child that comes from your union is all on you.” I skimmed my lips over his full ones and tried to formulate my response, but it was difficult with him so close. It was easier to set expectations at the beginning. “But you needn’t worry. I have faith you will do well on your own.”
“You know my story,” he said, pressing kisses to my mouth.
“Forget the doxy. You’ve had a long-term friendship with Amelia. Tell her your fears and allow her to help you overcome them.”
“I can’t tell her I desire other men,” he said, pulling back and standing to his full height. He backed away, running a hand through his hair. Throughout the night, I wasn’t sure if he’d back out of our tryst. I would soon have my answer.
“You just asked me to share your bed. I’m sure she’ll figure it out.” Once again, his naïvety shone through. I had to be patient and guide him in the right direction, something I seemed to be doing a lot of lately. I stood and moved to his side. I laid my hand on his arm. He stiffened but didn’t pull away. “Are you having second thoughts about sharing my bed?”
“No, on the contrary, I can hardly wait.” He looped his arm around my waist and pulled me in. Flush against his hard body, the light in his gaze blazed hot. I ran my palm up his backside, pulling his groin tighter to mine.
“I’m pleased to see your enthusiasm.” Holding his stare, I slid a hand between us, my own cock stirring in expectation of our tryst. I hadn’t bedded anyone in weeks. Our tryst, coupled with my time with Amelia, hadn’t been enough. I yearned for some physical release with this fascinating man.
“Yes.” He nodded, a tick forming in his jaw. I allowed my fingers to glide over the placket of his trousers, using my fingertips to explore his semi-aroused state. His size was impressive, and I ached to see him bared to my eager gaze.
He glided his hands into my hair.
I unfastened his trousers. Moving my mouth from his, I spread kisses along his jaw to the underside of his chin. Desire emanated from him, the musky scents of heat and man drawing me deeper into his web. He arched his neck, his groan of pleasure goading me on. I slipped my fingers into his underclothes and touched his hardened length. He jerked under my hand; his breathing labored. I palmed his cock, my thumb skimming over the wide crown. He swelled in my hand as I met his intense stare.
Lips plump from my kisses; I caught his mouth once more. With a sensual swirl, he delved his tongue into my mouth, and I returned the gesture. Silence broken by our moans surrounded us, blanketing me in the moment.
I floated my fist down his cock, reveling in the giving flesh. His sizzling kisses stole my breath. “I would like to see all of you.”
He traced a hand down my belly, and I sucked in a sharp breath when he cupped me between the legs. “Let me lock the door.”
My pulse racing a thundering beat, I tugged off my clothes. Oliver began to remove his clothes on his way back.
