‘Do you know what happens when you refuse to follow my lead?’
‘Generally, things work out in a much more satisfactory fashion.’
Humour glimmered before he shut it down. He pressed his lips together in a firm line. ‘Outside of this night, perhaps. But tonight,when you refuse to follow my commands, you must suffer the consequences, Clio.’
She had never been good at following orders. But never before had the repercussions seemed quite so enticing.
‘And what are my consequences,Grey?’ She couldn’t stop her rebellious smile.
His jaw muscles jumped as he stepped closer. The heat of his hand seeped through her thin cotton shift as it hovered just over her left breast. Her nipple hardened painfully, and she inhaled, waiting for the inevitable pressure of his palm. The sharp sweetness of his fingers. The pain that spun into pleasure.
‘Do you want me to touch you, Clio?’
Of course he would make her say it. But she was too lost in desire to deny him. ‘Yes.’
‘Then tell me, what is my name?’
Realisation dawned. This was what he meant by consequences.
‘Bastard,’ she hissed.
He lifted his hand to the lace edge just above her collarbone. His finger slid over her skin in a silken glide, tracing the scooped neck. But it wasn’t what she needed. It wasn’t even close. And he knew it.
‘No. That isn’t it, although Sir Robin thinks otherwise.’ He leaned closer, his hard chest almost pressing against her aching breasts. His lips hovered near her ear. ‘Say my name, Clio. Say my name and I’ll rip this nightgown off you and suck those sweet nipples until you scream.’
Sweet goddess!
Flames wrapped around them both, holding them in the moment.
She turned her head, trying to catch his mouth, bite his lip, force him to bend to her will, but he was too quick, leaning away from her. She narrowed her gaze. ‘Sir Robin is a very intelligentbird. If he calls you a bastard, it’s probably because that is exactly what you are.’ Her breath was coming hard and fast. The shift of cotton against the sensitive buds of her breasts only made her need worse.
Grey’s eyes glittered as he smiled. ‘Balancing on the precipice of pleasure can bring with it a unique pain. Only a true bastard would do that to someone.’ He let his hand slip lower, circling her right nipple with his thumb over the thin cotton until it peaked against the material, but he never touched the tip. It hardened so tight, her skin tingled. A corresponding spike of sensation exploded in the cluster of nerves hidden in her sex. ‘Mayhap Sir Robin is right.’
Without warning, he gripped the neckline of her gown in both hands and in one violent jerk, ripped the cotton down the centre.
Yes. Please.
She wanted him to strip her bare. To do all the things he spoke about. A small burst of pleasure fired low in her belly. But he didn’t pull aside the material. Disappointment flared. She wanted him to see her. Naked. Real. Raw. Instead, he trailed a finger from her throat, between her breasts, grown heavy and aching with need, over her sternum to her belly. Her muscles clenched as he tickled her navel.
‘Women, in my experience, are amazingly soft, and deceptively strong.’ His insidious finger dipped lower, tangling in her maidenhair before he softly brushed where no hands other than her own had ever ventured. Every nerve in her body fired at once. But when she would have burned the earth to cinders for friction, he brought his finger back up, dipping beneath the cotton to trail along the underside of her right breast.
‘Damnation! Grey. Touch me, please.’ She pulled against the cravat to lean closer to him, but he only stepped back, capturing her gaze.
‘What is my name, Clio?’
‘Lieutenant General.’ She wouldn’t give in. Not yet.
Bending his head, he brought his mouth to her left breast, so close she could feel the heat of his breath. But he didn’t draw the puckered tip into his mouth and suck as she so desperately wanted. Instead, he blew a stream of air over her sensitised flesh, his finger resuming its devastating circles around her right nipple. His other hand trekked lower again, palming her pussy, pressing his hard palm over her slick flesh, but pulling back before she could grind her hips against him.
‘You intoxicate me, Clio. Say my name.’
‘You infuriate me… Thomas.’ The word escaped, and she couldn’t regret her choice.
‘Thank God!’ He gripped both of her legs, wrapping them around his hips. She could feel the hard ridge of his erection through his breeches. The rough cotton created delicious friction as he rubbed his length against her.
He palmed her breast, but this time, strong fingers pinched and plucked. Ducking his head, he licked her nipple before nipping and sucking.
She wanted to wrap her arms around him, strip him bare, feel the glory of his naked skin against her own. But she could only absorb the sensations as his hand returned to her core, fingers sliding through her wet folds until he found the tight bundle hidden there. As his tongue swirled around her nipple, his finger circled her nub. Soft. Hard. Fast. Slow. Flames of pure pleasure burned through her systems. When he bit the tip of her breast, Clio’s world was consumed in fire as an orgasm ripped through her.
