“You’re not wearing any panties. Were you expecting me?”
Shivering, she shook her head.
Narrowing his eyes, he stroked her skin, his thumbs skating back and forth, back and forth.
“You are a woman of honor, are you not?”
WTF?
“What?”
“You said I could have what my heart and body most desire. You’re going to honor that promise, aren’t you?”
Yes, she kept thinking.Yes.But her breathing felt so stilted and so harried, she couldn’t seem to fill her lungs with enough oxygen to form the word.
“You don’t want to disappoint me, do you?”
No.But again the word wouldn’t come, so she just shook her head.
“Good.” He smiled and those silver and gold flints danced.
He removed his hands from her hips and lifted her nightgown.
She knew where he was looking; she could feel his hot breath and then his thumb tracing all three sides of her triangle.
The square of the hypotenuse is equal to … what … what the fuck is it equal to?
“So you are a natural blonde.”
His hand slipped between her thighs, and one finger slid in between the lips of her pussy.
Fuck.
“Damn,” he groaned. “Is it the fencing?”
Looking up at her, he plunged his finger inside, and her pussy clenched the thing like it was the elixir of life, the philosopher’s stone, and the Holy Grail.
“Or is it me? Tell me, Cecilia, how did you get so wet?”
She jolted as sparks of electricity morphed into bees buzzing up and down her flesh.
“You are so …” Slowly, he put two fingers in. “So …” And then with some effort, three.
A cry escaped her lips as she began to shake. Now those bees were waving sparklers, which shattered into a fireworks show featuring the US Navy Blue Angels and the US Air Force Thunderbirds.
“So tight.”
His eyes were on fire, but his lips—
Is he grinning? Yes, the fucker is grinning.
“I hope that’s not going to be a problem.”
He pulled out his fingers and slid them over the length of her pussy.
No. No problem.
“You haven’t answered my question, which is it?” he asked, as one finger teased her clit. “The fencing? Or me?”
