He smiled again and she was lost. And then, dipping his head right there where his fingers had been, he treated her like a Gunter’s ice.
Except nothing was cold. She was so hot, her body was clenching, a wild keening feeling coursing through her. His tongue, oh, his tongue, sliding up and down and then darting inside, just like his fingers had, only sweeter, slicker, even more thrilling until she was keening right along with her body, her hands clenched in his hair, her head thrown back, her body caught in a storm.
And then, he brought his finger up. He found a spot that shot lightning through her, and he stroked it with finger and tongue, and she swore she could feel the vibrations of him humming in this throat until he dipped in one more time, and her body seized and she cried out, the sensations too much to hold, theexquisite pleasure sweeping through her like a thundering surf. She wasn’t sure if she pulled him up or he came on his own, but suddenly Grey was holding her, her head tucked against his shoulder and his hands stroking her back.
She was still shuddering when he stopped stroking and lifted her chin. “Are you crying?”
For a long moment she could do no more than nod. Finally with a rather watery smile, she stretched up and kissed him back. “Thank you. I would never have imagined….”
Again, she shook her head. This time he kissed her, and she tasted herself on him, which oddly excited her all over again. Which, even still replete with surprise chills still chasing through her, made her remember more of her grandmother’s advice.
She lifted her head back from his shoulder and faced him. “It seems to me we have not completed the evening’s festivities.”
His grin was brash. “You want another round?”
She shook her head with what she hoped was a salacious smile of her own. “No. I wantyouto have a round.”
He seemed to freeze a bit. “You don’t have to….”
“My grandmother said that I did. And since I am a proponent of fair play, I agree with her.”
He shook his head with a rueful grin. “I have to spend more time with your grandmother.”
Georgie chuckled. “She’d like that. She likes handsome men. And the bees welcomed you. There’s just one thing.” Now she battled a fresh blush. “I am not…er, conversant with…er, technique? I mean, I know the basic equipment, but I’m not exactly sure how to make the most of it. Will you guide me?”
For the longest moment Grey couldn’t seem to make a sound. Georgie looked up to see that his eyes were all but black, his nostrils flared. His scent had grown darker, somehow, and it called to her. She knew she should have been petrified, awash in shame for being so forward. But her grandmother was right.Now that she was able to focus on something besides her own cataclysmic bodily responses, she realized he was stiff, holding himself exquisitely still. She wasn’t even sure he was breathing.
He couldn’t be afraid.
Georgie figured she had better make the first move. Running her hand down his chest, his torso, which was damp with sweat, she laid her hand over the placket of his trousers. “If you can untie my dress, doesn’t that mean I should unbutton you?”
He briefly closed his eyes. “I only have so much restraint, Georgie.”
She shouldn’t allow his admission to delight her, but it did. She had never been irresistible before. She decided it would be a waste of time to be polite. She opened a button and then another, intrigued by the fact that as she slipped her fingers inside the placket, the muscles of his abdomen rippled. She wanted to lick them. Next time, she decided, when they both knew the rhythms of the dance.
Another button.
Another.
His breathing was growing harsh, and her fingers had reached a nest of curling hair. And…oh, my. Oh, she hadn’t expected that. Well, she had noticed how big the bulge had been, but she suspected it hadn’t been completely…involved.
She couldn’t stand it anymore. She bent and laid a kiss on his belly and was rewarded by another low growl and a ripple of muscle, even as she gained enough access to curl her fingers around his…what was it the boys called it? Shaft? Man spear? Cock? Somehow that didn’t seem to…er, encompass the physical presence of it.
“You know what…” she murmured, pulling the placket fully away. “If you could dine on me, why couldn’t I…”
That got a real groan out of him. “Please,” he begged. “Not now.”
She looked up to see actual pain on his face. “Am I hurting you?”
He managed a rather grim smile. “Only in the best of ways. Help me get these things off so we can enjoy this interlude a bit better.”
Her own smile was delighted. She helped him shuck the rest of his clothing and spent a moment taking in the sight of his…man spear? That was much larger and rounder than she’d imagined, all cushioned in that nest of curly hair, a shade darker than that on his head.
This time she didn’t ask permission. The idea of ‘supping’ on his shaft intrigued her, but she thought this probably wasn’t the time, if he was this uncomfortable. So she satisfied herself by using her fingers, her hands, and one kiss right on the tip where a pearl of liquid had formed. She delighted herself testing the texture of him, like silk stretched over steel. She cupped his sacs and inhaled the earthy male scent of him. She heard him groan again and decided this wasn’t the time to waste on education.
“Tell me if I’m doing this wrong,” she said, wrapping her hand around him and sliding it up and down, delighted when he seemed to jump in her hand. “Grandmama was not explicit.”
“You’re doing just fine. Only one thing…” And before she could object, he pulled her back up to him and met her mouth to mouth, so that she lay along his body, relishing the hard strength of him, delighting in the heat, relieved that she could still reach his shaft so she could focus on it along with the kiss, and his hands roving her body, his groans, his smiles.
