“It’s all right, Iris.” He nudged her chin up so he could look into her eyes. “It’s natural to touch yourself when you’re aroused, and nothing to be ashamed of. It felt good, didn’t it?”
“Yes.” It was more a sigh than a word.
God, he wanted to watch her fingers stroking her breasts and playing with her nipples, but she wasn’t ready for that, and his mouth was watering to taste that beautiful pink flesh. He lay one hand flat against her back and leaned forward to pull a hard peak into his mouth.
She moaned when his tongue darted out to stroke her flesh. “Oh, that’s…it feels…”
He sucked her nipple, then bit down gently on the tender nub. She cried out, and he went back to slow, tender strokes with the tip of his tongue. When he felt some of the tension ease from her body, he sucked and nipped at her again.
“Oh.” Her head fell back and her spine arched, and she sank her fingers into his hair to hold his mouth to her breasts. “Finn, please…more.”
So much more, and I want to give it all to you.
He teased one nipple, then the other, alternating between light, caressing strokes of his tongue to gentle bites and rough sucking until she grew restless and her hips began an unconscious, rhythmic movement against his lap.
God, she was so beautiful, innocently seeking her pleasure. Her sinuous glide against him was the most erotic thing he’d ever seen, and if he hadn’t wanted to touch her so badly, he could have watched her all night.
But he did want to touch her, and he couldn’t wait another moment.
“Where else did you feel pleasure, sweetheart?” He slid a hand under the hem of her skirt and traced his fingers over her thigh, then inched his hand higher to caress the bare skin above her garter. “Here?”
Her legs stiffened on either side of his hips. “I—not there.”
“Higher then, I think?” He teased the tip of one finger between her folds. He didn’t do anything more, but kept his finger still while he continued to kiss and lick her breasts.
For a long moment she didn’t move, but at last she gave a tiny thrust of her hips, and an involuntary moan tore from her throat when his fingertip stroked over her clitoris with the movement.
Finn groaned at the sound, and his mouth grew more frantic against her breasts. “Yes, sweetheart. It feels good when you move against my hand. Did you touch yourself here when you read your books? Did you stroke your pretty fingers between your legs?”
“Yes,” she gasped, all embarrassment gone as she pressed down hard and jerked her hips, desperate for more friction against his hand.
Finn’s head fell back against the sofa. Dear God, she was going to kill him. The thought of those long, white fingers caressing her damp, flushed skin was enough to make him spill into his breeches like some overheated schoolboy.
He slid one finger into her narrow passage, a tortured groan leaving his lips when he felt how wet she was. “So hot and wet for me, Iris.” He thrust gently and made lazy circles with his thumb around the tender bud hidden between her folds. “You feel so good. God, I can’t wait to feel you come on my hand.”
Her cheeks were flushed and her eyes unfocused as she met each of his gentle thrusts, her hips working faster now as she chased her pleasure. “Ah, I can’t…please…”
“Do you need more, sweet?” He pressed his thumb more firmly against her clitoris and quickened his strokes, then carefully slid a second finger inside her. He was immediately rewarded when her back arched and her body stiffened against his.
“Finn…” She writhed against him, panting his name as she came in a flood of wet heat, her head thrown back and her body shuddering with pleasure.
When the spasms ceased and she went limp against him, Finn drew his hand out from under her skirts and urged her down onto his chest. She lay against him, breathing hard, a fistful of his silk waistcoat clenched in her hand.
Christ, was he stilldressed?
He pulled what was left of the pins from her hair and watched the firelight play against the long golden strands as he sifted them through his fingers. He held her and couldn’t remember another time in his life when he’d felt more joy than he did right now.
He thought she’d fallen asleep, but after a while she raised her head. “It’s not at all the same thing to read about it, is it?”
He let out a startled laugh. “Not at all, no. Most things aren’t, but perhaps this more than any other.”
“Yes. A book can’t touch you, after all, and touch seems to be a rather important part of it, doesn’t it?”
Finn dropped a kiss on her forehead, grinning at her as he played with a lock of her hair. “You could even say it’s the most important part.”
She was quiet for a moment, then she braced her hands against his chest and sat up.
Finn frowned as she pulled free from the circle of his arms. “What—”
