She rose again, but shifted when she came down so that he felt her distinctly, like a hard, velvet stroke.
“Oh, you liked that. I can tell. This is fun.” Once again, she experimented.
He gritted his teeth so she could play longer if she wanted, but he was close to ending the game. Fortunately, her own desire made her quicken the pace. She closed her eyes and found her own pleasure by creating deep thrusts and wicked rubs. She rode him like a wild woman, throwing back her head and hair, gasping when a move sent her higher.
He slid his hand between their bodies, so he could touch her near where they joined. As soon as he did, she lost all control. She cried out again and again with increasingly desperate pleas. Then she squirmed against him hard and tensed as the desperation gave way to wonder.
He pulled her down on him and held her hips while he took over, thrusting hard and long while he climbed to a soul-splitting finish.
Chapter Fifteen
Rosamund descended the stairs, dressed for the day. She and Kevin had agreed to meet in the hotel garden for apetit déjeuner.
She had gone to sleep feeling like a new woman. She had awoken much herself, but still changed. As she sought out the garden, she acknowledged that she had not thought about Charles more than two or three times while she dressed. The dull ache that emerged with those memories passed soon enough too.
She didn’t feel at all guilty for her inconstancy. Nor for her wantonness with Kevin. It had been fascinating, and highly pleasurable. She was lost, and he had helped her find her way. No one who had any kindness would think the worse of her for inviting that marvelous distraction.
The question was whether she should allow it again.
Small tables dotted the garden. Spring blooms poured from vases and planters. Vines covered walls and arbors. She couldn’t imagine a more beautiful place to have a meal.
Kevin already sat at one of the tables, drinking coffee. She paused. What does one say after such a night?
He saw her and stood, so she had to go to him before she had an answer to that question. He looked much the same, although maybe his smile appeared warmer than in the past. And his eyes—she could not ignore that awareness of their intimacy reflected in them.
A server came over and Kevin told him what to bring. Tea arrived for her almost immediately, along with a basket of rolls, breads, and little cakes.
“I suppose we should talk about Monsieur Forestier,” she said. “You said we would in the morning.”
“First, I think we should talk about last night.”
“As I entered the garden, I was wondering what one said after—well, after.”
“I expect it is customary to say thank you.”
“Is it? Well, thank you, then.”
She looked over her teacup to see he was almost laughing.
“It is customary for thegentlemanto say thank you, Rosamund. Not the lady.”
“Oh.”
“So, I thank you. I had a wonderful night. Incomparable.”
She cleared her throat. “I thank you too, even if it is not customary to do so. After all, I barely gave you a choice.”
“It was understandable that you required distraction. Did you find it?”
“I was thoroughly distracted.”
“Should you ever need it again, I hope you will let me know.”
He was asking for another night. Maybe many of them.
“I will do that. Now, should we discuss Monsieur Forestier? I meant it last night, about providing some funds. I am a partner. It is my obligation as much as it is yours, should we do this.”
“You are very sure, in the clear light of day, that you still want to do that? Last night when you offered, you were disadvantaged.”
