“Yes,” he said huskily. “I also thought about the way your lips have the slightest curve, even when you’re not smiling, as if you know secrets we mere mortals do not. And when you do smile at me,”—he ran the pad of his thumb over her bottom lip—“it warms me down to the marrow.”
“Oh, Sinjin,” she said tremulously.
“There’s more, of course. I’d be lying if I said I didn’t also imagine stripping you layer by layer, until there was nothing separating us.” Imagining doing that very thing, he slid his palms over her shoulders, down her arms, cupping the generous swells of her breasts. He squeezed gently, savoring the erotic heft. “And these beauties—do you know what I did to them?”
“What?” The word was a sensual puff from her lips.
“I kissed and licked them all over. Especially here.” He circled the center of her breasts, found the jutting tips beneath the layers. “Are your nipples hard for me, kitten? Do they throb for my touch, my kiss?”
“Mmm hmm.” Her head fell back against the column.
He’d take that as a yes. “You taste so sweet here, like a ripe berry against my tongue. Just the memory of licking you, suckling these tight little buds, arouses me—can you feel that?” Fisting her skirts, he tossed them up, grinding the clothed ridge of his erection against her bare thigh. “Can you feel how hard you make me?”
Her eyes were dazed with longing. “Oh, Sinjin, you make me feel so… awash.”
He knew the feeling. But he didn’t want to give in, not just yet. Not until he was certain that she saw herself the way he did. “Do you also feel desired?” He flexed his hips again to drive the point home.
“Yes,” she breathed.
“And beautiful?”
“I feel that way… when I’m in your arms.”
Her smile made him ache, not just in his cock, which was throbbing like the devil, but in his chest. In some deep and essential place.
“That’s a start, at least,” he said huskily. “Now be a love, and hold your skirts up for me.”
When she hesitantly complied, he went down on one knee. With the reverence of an acolyte—which was no less than she deserved—he ran his hands up her dainty, stocking-covered ankles, over the sweet curves of her calves, all the way to the satiny skin above her ribbon garters.
He honed in on the treasure that awaited him at the apex of her thighs. As he ran a fingertip through that soft tawny thatch, he whispered, “You’re so damned gorgeous, Polly. Not just in your physical charms—which God knows you possess in abundance—but in your passion. How generous and full of life you are. How wet you get,”—he swallowed, feeling that dew ease his exploring touch—“how you melt at my touch… my kiss.”
So saying, he leaned in and gave her the kiss that had featured in his fantasies.
Her taste was as he remembered: honey and woman, all Polly. Parting her plump folds, he licked hungrily along her pink slit, fueled by the primal need to dispel any doubt that she belonged to him. To the man who was her true match. Who not only saw her beauty butfeltit—in her shivers of delight, the rain of dew upon his tongue, the ardent way she arched herself into his kiss.
When his tongue delved upward to her pearl, her knees buckled, and he steadied her, swinging one of her legs over his shoulder, bracing her against the column. With this improved access, he returned to his interrupted pleasure. He suckled on her little knot, then tickled it with his tongue. She reached her pinnacle with a sudden soft cry that made his turgid member jerk against his smalls.
Her indescribable sweetness made his senses spin. Not ready to give up his seat at the feast, he continued to tongue her pearl as she came down, drawing out her voluptuous pleasure. He traced her drenched furrow with his middle finger until he found her tight entrance. Slowly but surely, he worked his way inside.
The fit was snug, her sheath dewy but unaccustomed to invasion. Once he passed the initial resistance, however, her virgin muscles tugged at his digit, that erotic pull drawing a spurt of pre-spend from his cock. He lapped at her pearl as he screwed his finger inside, steadily and all the way, until her nest feathered across his knuckles. He was rewarded by a fresh gush of her ambrosia.
“Yes, kitten,” he growled. “Spend for me again. Give me more of your sweet honey.”
Afire with lust, he redoubled his efforts, stabbing her clit with his tongue, her tight cunny with his finger. Her hips bucked wantonly against his mouth, and when he judged her ready, he gave her more, adding another finger to the mix. His excitement surged as she took it readily, her pussy clenching lushly around his thick digits, her cream rich upon his tongue.
“Sinjin.”
In her moment of crisis, she called out his name—a summons that could not be denied. Aroused beyond reason, he surged to his feet, crushing her lips with his, their kiss flavored with the wild beauty of her pleasure. The intimacy of what they were sharing pushed him over the edge: he ground his hips against her, rubbing his trouser-confined erection against her thigh, finding the essential friction. When his release slammed into him, he buried his shout of satisfaction in her hair.
When he regained his senses, he lifted her head—to see Polly smiling at him. She looked adorably… smug.
He chucked her under the chin. “Pleased with yourself, sweeting?”
“I can’t help it.” With a mischievous twinkle in her eyes, she said, “I suppose it’s nice to know that I’m not the only one who can, um, climax fully clothed.”
“Touché,” he said with a wry grin. He examined the front of his trousers, gingerly buttoning his jacket over the stain. “I don’t relish handing this over to my valet. He’ll think his rakehell of a master was replaced by a fifteen-year-old greenling. Which, incidentally, was my age when I last disgraced myself in this manner.”
She clearly tried to hide her smile, so dazzling that it could have lit up a ballroom. “I’m sorry. I know I shouldn’t find it amusing,” she said between giggles. “It’s just that I never thought thatIcould… that the wallflower could turn the tables on therake…”
