“Are you this sensitive everywhere, my sweet?” he murmured.
“I don’t know,” she said breathlessly. “No one has ever kissed me there before.”
“Good.”
His proprietary tone sent tingles flowing up her spine, as did the dark flare of promise in his eyes.
She trembled as he undid her waistcoat, then moved on to the buttons of her shirt. His fingertips rasped against her skin as he parted the linen panels with care, as if unwrapping a present. Her heart bumped against her ribs as he exposed her breasts, which weren’t exactly a gift of bounty. Her curves were so scant that she hadn’t bothered to bind them. Would he find her lacking?
His nostrils flared. “You’re delicate. So pretty.”
She felt herself flushing. “They’re not much—ooh.”
She moaned again as he thumbed the stiff buds, teasing them with his callused pads. When he pinched one throbbing tip, she jerked and felt a rush of wetness at her core.
“Sensitive, as I thought.” Satisfaction deepened his voice. “Let’s see what else you like.”
She gasped as he closed his lips around her nipple. At the hot, wet swirl of his tongue, her spine arched off the cushions. He went back and forth, licking a trail between her pulsating peaks until she thought she might go mad with bliss.
“Heavens,” she panted. “What are you doing to me?”
“I’m kissing your delectable breasts. They are sweet and perfect”—he did something with his tongue that forced the air from her lungs—“just like you.”
“I don’t know if I can take anymore. I feel so strange, so awash…”
She couldn’t describe what she was feeling…the twisting desperation, the ever-tightening coil in her lower belly.
“Are you wet, sweeting?”
Heat flooded her cheeks. His gaze was knowing and male; it made her aware of the gap in experience between them. In this and martial arts, she was clearly the novice. Even though she was an eager student, modesty made it impossible to answer him.
When she wriggled in embarrassment, a wicked glint came into his eyes.
“Can it be that my bold little tigress is bashful?” he asked softly.
She bit her lip. “I…I just can’t…”
“Let me help you then.”
He shifted, and suddenly she felt his hard thigh wedging between her legs, against the place where she’d grown shockingly damp. He pressed that sinewy ledge deeper, rubbing against her neediest place, setting off sparks of delight that pushed a whimper from her lips.
“There,” he rasped. “Does that feel good?”
“Y-yes.”
“Move your hips, sweeting. Rub your pussy against me.”
Mesmerized by his sensual command, uttered in a tone like the one he used during their lessons, she couldn’t help but obey. The friction of his muscular thigh against her sensitive cleft created waves of pleasure. The coil of need tightened and tightened, and she gave in to the impulse to move her hips faster, blushing as he stared down at her with unyielding intensity, gauging her every response.
“You are so lovely.” He cupped her cheek, his gaze like glittering onyx. “I can feel how wet and hot you are. Ride my leg harder, sweeting, and make yourself come.”
His naughty instructions blazed fire through her veins. She rocked her hips, chasing the relief that seemed just out of reach. Whimpering, she felt need winding tighter and tighter as she rubbed herself against his rock-hard thigh…
Suddenly, he bent his head, capturing her nipple between his lips. The hot suction seemed to pull at her very core. He drew on her nipple as he thrust his leg against the sensitive peak of her pussy, and she felt something spring free.
Pleasure flooded her, and she chanted his name. He kissed her, pressing and circling his thigh against her fluttering cove, prolonging the waves of her release. Afterward, as she floated in a blissful cloud, he set her to rights, the brush of his calluses against her skin making her satiated nerves quiver anew.
He sat her up, cuddling her against him. The carriage was still moving, the horses clip-clopping along. Yet everything felt different…changed.
