“Would you like being made love to on a table? Perhaps not the first time. But after we get that pesky little problem out of the way, shall we try it here?”
Pesky little problem. As if her virginity, so highly prized in her world, was little more than an annoyance. Then again, her lack of a virginal state wasn’t likely to be an issue these days.
He was dangerous and arrogant, but he was also a protector. Oh, he would undoubtedly leave her at the end of an affair and send her on her way, but intuitively she didn’t think he would hurt her. As long as she didn’t expect anything more from him. Or heaven forbid fall in love with him.
“Should I take your silence as assent?” He kissed her lips, lingering on her lower one and pulling it between his before releasing it with a pop. “I won’t, you know. You’ll have to vocalize your desire. Just once, and I’ll do the rest.”
Her head dipped back as he kissed along her neck. Devilish kisses, seductive words.
He leaned back and met her eyes, his dark and beguiling. “You want to learn the art. I can see it in your eyes. Every time I kiss you, I can see it burning in your gaze. You hide all that passion behind the prickers you wear so proudly. It makes it all the more of a challenge to uncover the soft, velvet center.”
He touched her breast again, fingers pulling and lifting to the peak. Her head dipped farther as the muscles in her neck gave way.
“And I will teach you all you wish to know.”
“Do you do this for everyone?” she whispered, eyes hazed as she tried to focus.
She felt him stiffen, but he immediately resumed his ministrations. “No. You aren’t the only one who wears your prickers proudly.”
“Why me?” She pulled her neck upward. She had looked in a mirror. She wasn’t blind, and neither was he.
“Because I want to,” he whispered against her exposed throat, fingers lazily circling. “Tell me yes, and I will continue. Tell me no, and I will withdraw.”
It was true. All of what he said. She was curious. So very, very curious. She wanted to learn everything. Wanted the power he had over her for her own. Never before had she felt this way about a man, and such a man as this…one who seemed to know her body better than she did…
“What is your pleasure, Marietta?”
“Yes.” The choice was very simple in the end.
His eyes were fierce and triumphant.
He led her to his room and laid her on the coverlet of the bed. Her skin was on fire but her brain was frozen and panicky. “Remember what I said about kissing? About how to respond and feel the response given back? Use that the same way.”
He kissed her gently, his fingers working at the fastenings on her dress, the latches of her stays. She kissed him back, pushing her nervousness into her response, trying to overcome her fear by kissing him as intensely as he kissed her. The feedback became stronger as her fierce kisses turned into more demanding ones from him.
He pulled away slowly, softly kissing her lips. Somehow he’d managed to get her untied, unlatched, and freed. Only her chemise remained. He tugged her upright and shimmied the material up and over her head. She immediately crossed her arms to hide her nakedness.
Here was a perfect specimen of male beauty sitting in front of her, while she, so bony and gangly, was exposed before him.
He raised a brow at her action and tugged one arm down. Her arm immediately rose again. She looked down at herself and grabbed for her chemise.
“What are you doing, Marietta?”
“I—I’ve changed my mind.”
He stopped her from putting the garment back on. “Because you are truly having second thoughts, or because you dislike your body?”
Her chin lifted. “What difference does it make?”
“A great deal of difference.” He lowered her arm and tugged the garment from her. “You are skin and bones, it’s true. Nothing that a few more weeks of regular food won’t cure. But that doesn’t matter. You could stay this skinny or be three times your weight and what would really matter was the spark. How you respond. The passion you allow to be unleashed.”
He stroked her arm and she shivered.
“The physical shell is nothing without what is inside. I could be with what the masses consider the most beautiful woman, and if I wanted to pretend there was something deeper there, I could. I could delude myself as to the connection between. But why would I settle for a substitute if I could feel a real spark? And you have one in you, Marietta. I can taste it. It’s not what you look like, Marietta, it’s what you choose to show.”
His fingers combed through the hair at her nape, pulling her head back.
“Show me that spark. Feel it and return it. That’s what matters.”
