And now that her breasts had experienced his attentions, they ached for more.
She ached for his hands, his mouth.
“I—” She took half a step forward and lifted her hair. “Would you unfasten me, please?”
It was an innocent enough request; one he could not deny.
“Of course.”
His fingers worked the buttons down her back, and the warmth of his breath seemed to follow them. Once he was finished, her gown slackened, and he reached inside and untied and then loosened the laces of her stays.
“You make an excellent lady’s maid,” she teased, anticipating the feel of his hands on her skin.
And then… Nothing.
“I’m going to wash up.” His voice hitched. He had stepped away, leaving her alone to bear the chill of disappointment.
Again.
As he moved toward the privacy screen, his eyes looked everywhere but at her.
“I’ll not come out until you are decently covered.” He flicked a glance at the gown on the bed, looking pained but resolved.
She nodded dumbly. He was going to give her privacy so that she could undress and climb under the covers without him. It wasn’t fair for her to be angry. He was following the doctor’s orders. And yet she was becoming far too familiar with this sting of rejection.
Flustered, she stepped out of her gown and then loosened her stays further so she could shimmy that off as well.
All the while, she kept her eyes on the back of his head, his thick, mahogany hair springing out, defying any style as usual. The expression in his eyes had mirrored her own emotions.
His head was dropped forward, as though defeated. She hated that they couldn’t talk about this. Was she hurting him in her persistence? If he was angry, he needed to let her know. She didn’t like pretending that nothing was wrong.
She pulled the night rail over her head and, not stopping to think that she wouldn’t be welcome, padded across the room and peeked around the screen.
His eyes were closed and a barely audible hiss escaped his clenched teeth.
Tabetha skirted her gaze down the length of his arm, mesmerized. He was clutching… He was… pleasuring himself, slowly sliding and squeezing his manhood. Unaware of her presence, he dropped his head back, eyes closed.
His… instrument was so much larger than what she had imagined. And the skin was a combination of pink and flesh colors with tiny scarlet and almost purple veins in places. Black hair nestled at the base. He was… magnificent.
She licked her lips.
This was masturbating. Of course, she’d been warned of the solitary vice, onanism. Men resorted to it when they couldn’t find relief with a woman. It was supposed to be a sin.
One of those pictures in her memory had depicted precisely this.
His sturdy fist slid to the base, and Tabetha looked on in awe as the tip and length emerged upward.
“Ohhhh,” she breathed softly, entranced.
“Minx,” he said.
Rock had opened his eyes, catching her voyeurism where she stood. His hand slowed but it continued sliding up and down his member. He didn’t stop, nor did he ask her to leave.
Except now…
His hooded gaze focused on her. His lips were parted and shining, as though he’d licked them a moment before.
Those lips were for her and only her.
