“Should I take your silence as assent?” He kissed me, lingering on my lower lip and pulling it between his before releasing it with a pop. “I won’t, you know,” he said, voice low and hot. “You’ll have to vocalize your desire. Just once, and I’ll do the rest.”
My head dipped back as he kissed along my neck. Devilish kisses, seductive words.
He leaned back and looked at me with his beguiling eyes. “You want to learn the art. I can see it in your eyes. Every time I kiss you, I can see it burning beneath your skin. You hide all that passion behind the prickers you wear so proudly. It makes it all the more of a challenge to uncover your soft, velvet center.”
He caressed my breast again, fingers pulling and lifting to the peak. My head dipped farther as the muscles in my neck gave way. “And I will teach you all you wish to know.”
“Do you do this to everyone?” I whispered, eyes hazed.
He stiffened, then immediately resumed his ministrations. “No. You aren’t the only one who wears your prickers proudly.”
“Why me?” I forced my neck upright.
“Because I want to bury myself in you,” he whispered against my exposed throat, fingers lazily circling. “To unfold your magicand spread it with mine. Tell me yes, and I will continue. Tell me no, and I will withdraw.”
Withdraw? I wanted to learn everything. Wanted this for my own. Never had I felt this way about a man, and such a man as this…one who seemed to know my body and magic better than I did…
“What is your pleasure, Marietta?”
“Yes.” The choice was very simple in the end.
His eyes were fierce and triumphant.
He led me to his room and laid me on the coverlet. My skin was on fire but my brain turned frozen and panicky.
He touched my cheek. “Remember what I said about kissing? About how to respond and feel the response given back?”
He kissed me gently, and I kissed him back, pushing my nervousness into the response, trying to overcome it with intensity. The feedback became stronger as my fierce kisses turned into more demanding ones from him.
His fingers slowly worked at the fastenings on my dress, the latches of my stays. Freeing my breasts, loosening all the constraints on my body.
He pulled away slowly, softly kissing my lips. Untied, unlatched, and free, only my chemise remained. He tugged me upright and shimmied the material up and over my head.
I immediately crossed my arms to hide my nakedness.
A perfect specimen of male beauty sat in front of me, while I, decidedly imperfect, was exposed before him.
He raised a brow at my action and tugged one crossed arm down. It immediately rose again. I grabbed for my undergarment.
“What are you doing, Marietta?”
“I—I’ve changed my mind.”
He stopped me from putting it back on. “Because you are truly having second thoughts, or because you dislike your body?”
My chin lifted. “What difference does it make?”
“A great deal of difference.” He tugged my arm and the garment free. “You are skin and bones, it’s true. Nothing that a few more weeks of regular food won’t cure. But that also doesn’t matter. You could stay this skinny or be three times your weight and what matters is the spark. How you respond. The passion you allow to be unleashed.”
He stroked my arm. I shivered.
“The physical shell is only a covering for what’s inside. What the masses consider the most beautiful woman means nothing. Mistaking beauty for connection—absurd. Why would I settle for a delusion if I could experience a real spark? And you have one in you. I can taste it. It’s never what you look like, Marietta, it’s what you choose to show.”
His fingers combed through the hair at my nape, pulling my head back.
“Show me that spark. Feel it and return it. That’s what matters.”
The heat that had cooled pumped again. “And if I’m disappointing?”
