“You don’t have to do this, Lucretia.”
She knew that. This had, after all, been her idea from the very beginning. But the prospect his words evoked—the idea of getting up and leaving—made her realize how much she wanted this. She wanted his gaze, wanted his hunger.
Before she could reason herself out of it, she straightened up on the couch, pivoting to face Felix, and gathered a fistful of her dress to draw it up to her knees. One foot rested on the floor, the other sank into the surface of the plush couch, her knee bent.
Felix leaned closer, as if drawn to her by an invisible string. His intense focus was both gratifying and daunting. She hoped whatever expectations he had formed in his mind over the years, he wouldn’t be disappointed.
She continued raising her dress, baring her thighs. Finally, she drew the fabric up to her hips, revealing everything to his hungry gaze.
He exhaled, and she realized he’d been holding his breath. His gaze lifted briefly to her face, and the tentative reverence in his eyes gave her a surge of confidence. She lay back against the pillows behind her, allowing her legs to fall open.
She trailed her fingers over herself, luxuriating in the sensation that sparked. A muscle pulsed in Felix’s jaw.
“Is this how you imagined it?” she asked, voice husky.
He cleared his throat. “I did not think it would be so…pink.”
She blushed. It was pink because she desired him. Having her need laid bare like this should be embarrassing, but it was impossible to be abashed with him looking at her like that, naked lust etched in every plane of his face, his fists clenched tight at his sides as if he had to restrain himself from reaching for her.
Lucretia drifted her finger to the apex of her quim. “This is the place that gives the greatest pleasure.”
His eyes tracked her movement. “I see.”
“And this…” She moved her fingers down, between her folds. “Is where, er…” She couldn’t find the words, so instead, she slipped one finger inside. Her channel was already slick with wanting.
Heat flared in his gaze. “I see,” he said again, voice hoarser this time. “Is it not strange for the two to be so far apart?”
“It does take some finesse at times, to find pleasure with a man.”
“Fascinating,” he murmured. “May I touch you?”
Lucretia nodded. She expected him to go straight for her center, and she braced herself for a surge of sensation.
Instead, he laid a hand on her lower leg, near her ankle. He brushed gently upward, following the curve of her calf. She shivered when his hand passed over the underside of her knee, unexpectedly ticklish. His mouth twitched at her reaction.
His hand moved slowly upward, the touch lightening until it was just the tips of his fingers grazing the inside of her thigh. She couldn’t help shifting beneath him, her body searching for more sensation.
Then his fingers reached the curls on the edge of her sex. She caught her breath, holding it as he delicately explored her folds. His brow furrowed in concentration.
There was a heady mix of power and vulnerability in letting him touch her like this. Even though she was meant to be the teacher in this encounter, she was completely exposed to his gaze and his touch. She couldn’t hide her desire, the elemental fact that her body wanted him.
He glanced at her face. “Is this hurting you? You look uncomfortable.”
She exhaled and tried to relax her face. “No.”
He kept his gaze on her face as he trailed his fingers lazily up and down her folds. “Then it’s giving you pleasure, and you find that uncomfortable.”
He was a little too perceptive, despite his inexperience. “I just—it’s been a while since someone…touched me,” she admitted.
“But this pleases you?” He stroked her once more.
“Yes.” Her breathing was quick and shallow. “But it would please me better if you touched higher. The spot I showed you.”
“Here?” His index finger brushed the nub above her folds.
She bit back a gasp. “Yes.”
“Show me how to touch you. Show me what you like.” The words hovered between a request and a command. He moved his hand aside.
