She snapped her head up. “Did that hurt?”
“No.” The word barely came out. He cleared his throat. “No, it felt so good that it made me want you even more.”
From the pleased look on his face that meant it was good. She went back to her study of him and ran her hands over the ripples between his upper muscles and the top of his pantaloons. As her fingers hit his waist, she noticed a large bulge beneath the fall. About to investigate, she found her hands suddenly grasped within his.
“Now may I do the same?”
It seemed only fair, and he certainly hadn’t been hurt by what she’d done. She just needed to focus on him and not what her husband had done. She nodded. “Yes.”
He bent and lifted her into his arms once again only to drop her onto the bed.
She laughed, fond memories of flouncing on her bed to daydream filling her. Many of those daydreams included Marcus and what it would be like to be kissed by him. Now she knew and she so enjoyed his kisses.
Marcus joined her, laying on his side, his head resting on one elbow.
She smirked as she thought of how he could have been a model for Joanna’s book. The only difference was that he still wore his pantaloons. For the first time, she wondered if completely unclothed would he look like the man in the sketch.
“Elle, I’m going to touch you now, if you are willing?”
She nodded, forcing herself to think about their kissing.
He didn’t grab her breast. Instead, he found the bow at the top of her shift and pulled, loosening the neck line. Then he gently moved it down over one shoulder and helped her remove her arm from the short sleeve, effectively baring her right breast for him to see.
She heated under his appreciative gaze. How did she look compared to the woman in the book? She’d never purposefully looked at herself in her looking glass.
Still, he didn’t touch her, but pulled down the other side of her shift until she was bared to him from the waist up, like the sketch of a woman from another country that Joanna had shocked them all with while still too young to understand.
But she understood now, and having Marcus resume his position with his head on his elbow while she lay there half nude caused her heart to beat faster.
“You are beautiful. I could lay here all evening just looking at you.”
Embarrassed, yet oddly pleased, she lowered her gaze. The book hadn’t said anything about simply staring at each other. Though she felt a bit overheated and her breathing was far from normal, she viewed his naked torso from beneath her lashes. Her fingers itched to touch him again. Is that how he felt looking at her?
He lifted his hand. “Watch what I do.”
Surprised, she widened her eyes. “Watch you touch me?”
“Yes.” His answer came out far lower in octave than his last statement and sent a fire of anticipation sweeping through her.
Doing as she was told, she followed his hand as it hovered over her right breast. He left it there just a hairsbreadth away and her nipple hardened. Her body wanted him to touch her! Shocked at the realization, she licked her suddenly dry lips. “Please, touch me.”
At her words, his fingers gently stroked her, sending tendrils of excitement through her chest and down between her thighs. When his fingers took her nipple between them and rolled like she did to him, she sucked in her breath and crossed her legs as a tightness developed in her abdomen, the pleasure seeming to make it stronger.
He ran his fingers across to her other breast and even before they reached it, her nipple turned hard. Amazed at the transformation, she stared, expecting him to do the same thing, wanting him to repeat his actions, but he didn’t. Instead, he laid his hand flat against her, cupping her breast.
“So soft and perfect.” His words were spoken as if he were mesmerized, his gaze completely focused on her body. It was as if she were being worshiped.
She was about to tell him she deserved no such accolades, when his palm lifted and brushed across her hardened peak. Slowly, he moved his hand in lazy circles, causing ripples of pleasure to pool in her abdomen and starting a wetness she remembered from reading the book.
A need to moan crawled up her throat, and she quickly bit down on her lips.
His hand stopped all movement. “Are you hurt?”
She shook her head.
“What is wrong? Do you wish me to stop?”
Again she shook her head, swallowing to make her voice work, though it still came out scratchy. “I didn’t want to make any noises. That wouldn’t be proper.”
