“Almost,” she agreed, voice unsteady.
“What about both at the same time?” One hand left her breast and found its place between her legs. The touch of his fingers on her bare flesh, coupled with his other hand teasing her nipple, made her shudder and bow against him, head braced against the wall behind her.
“You’re soaked,” he whispered roughly in her ear. “I can only assume that’s a good thing. Is it, Lucretia?”
The sound of her name rasping on his lips as he pleasured her almost undid her. “It’s—it’s a good thing.” The words were mangled and barely intelligible.
“What does it mean?”
She sensed he knew exactly what it meant, but he wanted to toy with her. To make her admit that she wanted him. “It means—”
She broke off in a gasp as he slid one finger gently inside her.
“Tell me what it means.” His voice deepened to a growl.
“It means I want you,” she confessed. “It means I like the way you touch me.”
He let out a sigh of satisfaction and rocked his finger inside her. “Would you climax from this alone?”
At that moment, she felt as if she could climax from the touch of a feather, but even so, she shook her head. “It’s pleasurable—very much so—but not enough on its own.”
“I see.” His words somehow managed to have both the carnality of a man with his finger deep inside her as well as the attentiveness of a scholar learning from a sage. “So I should focus here, then—” He withdrew his finger and found the throbbing spot at the apex of her quim. “If my goal is to make you climax.”
“You should,” she breathed.
In response, he resumed the same rhythm she had shown him last time—quick, tight circles. She dug her fingers into his shoulders, letting him support her as the pleasure built.
“Oh,” she moaned. “Oh, Felix, I’m going to—” The wave crashed over her, and she became senseless to everything but the flames of pleasure consuming her.
“Yes,” he growled as her body rippled and writhed against him.
As it left her, she sagged, legs no longer capable of supporting herself. “I can’t—”
He slid his arms around her, catching her by the waist. “I’ve got you. Don’t try to stand.”
Somehow, he swept her legs out from under her and carried her to the couch. Dimly, she registered a moment of surprise at his easy strength, as his body wasn’t as bulky with muscle as some men were. But that must be a byproduct of his boxing practice, despite the overall leanness of his frame.
He laid her gently on the couch, and even went so far as to place a pillow beneath her head. “Thank you,” she mumbled.
He brushed a curl of hair away from her cheek. “Are you cold? I can fetch your dress.”
She shook her head. She was anything but cold, molten pleasure still seeping through her in waves of heat.
Heavy satisfaction suffused her, which made her realize he’d experienced no such resolution. Last time, he’d stopped her from touching him, and it had been rather fun to leave him unsatisfied. This time, however, she didn’t want to end this without feeling her hand wrapped around his cock.
Once she caught her breath, she hauled herself into a sitting position, weary muscles protesting the movement. “You’re getting very good at that,” she said. “Perhaps a reward is in order. Lie back.”
He gave her a look hot with hungry anticipation, along with a trace of incredulity, as if he didn’t really believe this was about to happen. But he lay back, positioning a pillow beneath his shoulders and clasping his hands behind his head so he could still look at her.
Lucretia brushed her hand over the protrusion of his arousal through his tunic. “Is this all for me?”
A shudder went through him at the light touch. “Yes.”
“Have you thought about me doing this before? Lifting your tunic, sliding my hand up…” She did exactly as she said, feeling the muscles in his thighs tense as she passed over them. “Wrapping my fingers around your cock?”
“Yes,” he hissed as her hand found his arousal. “So many times.”
The admission that she was the object of his fantasies thrilled her. She gave him a long, slow stroke. “Did you do this after I left last time?”
