Not only didn’t she need encouragement, but the mere suggestion she was afraid spurred her forward. Accepting the challenge, she explored his broad shoulders, the way the muscles in his back bunched when she nibbled at his neck. Delighted in his soft groan and the tightening of his abdomen when she traced her fingers over that trail of hair and across the waistband of his trousers.
As she toyed with the buttons, he stayed her hand, then lowered his head to her breast. Through the soft cotton, he teased her nipple with his tongue, and her body arched off the bed when he drew the peak into his mouth and suckled.
“That’s it. Surrender to the sensation, my little Nymph of Nuisance.”
Had it not been for his words pinging in her brain, the trail of his hand beneath her chemise should have sent her into ecstatic oblivion.
“Wha-what did you call me?”
He blinked, and his unfocused gaze met hers. “Oh. Did I say that aloud?” The sheepish expression on his face indicated he knew very well he had. “It seems your affliction is contagious.”
Aghast, she stared at him. How dare he! “That’s horrible.”
He continued his path upward under her chemise. “Would you prefer my Elfin Menace? My Little Sprite?” He placed a kiss on the tip of her nose. “It would seem fair play given your names for me.”
“You are horrible.” She wanted to push him away, but his hand had reached the apex of her thighs, and she couldn’t think straight. What was happening to her? Whatever it was, it promised something forbidden and exciting, and she rushed headlong, not caring if she fell from a precipice in search of it.
“Should I stop?” He flashed her a grin as he touched the exact spot that throbbed with need. “If it makes you feel better, you may call me whatever name you wish. I understand Ogre was a favorite of yours when we first met.”
He teased the area some more, and the pressure building within her seemed unbearable. “You would be an ogre if you stopped now. The worst kind of ogre.”
“We can’t have that now, can we?” Laughing, he bunched fistfuls of the cotton chemise in his hands and, tugging upward, removed it. He tossed the thin fabric aside. “Is there a good kind of ogre? If so, I hope I qualify.”
Sparks of mischievous fire licked along every nerve ending at his touch. Pressure built within her, and an unnamed need grew out of control. Their kisses became more insistent, and their tongues entwined in a frantic dance. Always believing she was an expert in pursuing pleasure, she never expected something so wonderful and yet at the same time so frustrating.
She gasped at the heat of his body, his thick-muscled thigh nudging against hers, his breathy pants against her ear.
When she thought she couldn’t bear any more, he lowered his head to her breast and, suckling, pushed her toward the precipice.
Rather than Grump, Grouch, or Ogre, she called out, “Colin!” right before falling into blessed oblivion filled with shooting stars and colorful fireworks. Waves of pleasure rippled through her; she grabbed handfuls of the sheets for support. If she’d only known what awaited her, she wouldn’t have been so stubborn.
Why didn’t people do this all the time?
Warm, languid, and blissfully content, she curled into his embrace and played with that fascinating hair on his chest. Unexpected shyness at her nakedness, or perhaps vulnerability of relinquishing herself, had her burying her face against his chest. Her cheeks flamed as she found the courage to ask, “There’s more, isn’t there?”
“There is if you’d like me to continue.”
“Yes, if you would.”
“Oh, I’d very much like to.” His voice, always deep and resonant, sounded raspy, as if he were parched. He removed his trousers, sliding them off his hips and tossing them aside to join her chemise.
Unable to keep from staring, she remembered his encouragement to touch him and reached out a finger. When she touched the tip of his sex, it bobbed. She wanted to giggle but couldn’t. This was too momentous,too important.
She grew bolder, and wrapped her hand around him, relishing the different texture of his skin, the hardness of his shaft and the velvety softness of the tip.
He hissed in a breath. “God, that feels good.” With a groan, he pulled her in for a deep kiss. His hands wrapped in her hair, sending the carefully crafted coiffure into disarray.
Both breathless, they broke the kiss, and he leaned his forehead against hers.
“Which way will we...” Unsure how to say what she wanted, she left it hanging in the air and hoped he would understand.
An eyebrow cocked. “Which way?”
“Yes. In Alice’s book, there are a lot of different ways people...you know.”
“Book?”
Good gracious, her face was on fire. Yet Colin seemed more curious than embarrassed, so she continued. “From India. There was one way in particular Alice recommended.”
