Isabelle slid back against him, her stays near bursting with unspent desire. “No, but it would be wise to discuss some boundaries.” Her voice was a bit strained to her own ears.
“You know you can ask me to stop at any time and I’ll obey.” He traced her lips with his thumb, concern in his eyes.
“I shall do the same.” Obviously. She bit her lip. How exactly did she explain without being crass or insulting? She threaded her fingers together, squeezing. “But this is more for expectations.” Isabelle searched his face, willing him to be able to sense her meaning.
“You want to protect yourself.” He squinted back at her, as if he was trying to read every thought, every gesture—as if he could come into her mind.
“I don’t want to have a baby. At least not now.” She bit her tongue. “I mean, I understand there are ways to prevent it, but I don’t exactly have a, um—I haven’t acquired a sponge or one of those sheaths, the ones made of animal parts, which isn’t the most pleasant thought, but they’re supposed to be effective and . . .” Her face grew hot, and Aaron’s lips were pressed together as his face was turning a bit, well, purple. Oh, dash it all. She glared at him. “Are you laughing at me?”
“No, not in the slightest.” He sniffed a little, but there was a distinct snicker behind it. “I’m just . . .” He coughed. “It’s a bit dusty in here.”
“You know, if you’re going to laugh, we can just walk away and forget this ever happened.” She folded her arms.
“How do you know I can? How do you know, now that you’ve tempted me with your very arousing discussion of—what did you call it? ‘Animal parts’?” His chest vibrated and she rolled her eyes. It really wasn’t that funny. He raised both brows in challenge. “How do you trust that I’d be able to just walk away?”
“Because it would violate your sense of morality.” She ran a hand down his chest, reveling in the vibrations against her palm.
“I’m a custodian, not a tzaddik.” The words held a bitter edge, and he grasped both her wrists, tugging them in front of him, as if demonstrating. He gave her a dark look, bringing each wrist to his lips and licking, not kissing, each of them. She squirmed against him.
“I don’t know. You may scrub floors, but you seem rather wise to me, especially when you do what I say. Besides, everyone has a morality.” She managed to speak between whimpers of desire as his tongue trailed the length of her arm where her glove had been. “Even you.” She clenched her fingers on the table as she struggled to keep her head for this last little bit. “Especially you.” She gasped as his mouth was at her throat once more. “You’d not go against my wishes, nor anyone’s.”
“Really?” He mumbled the word as he nipped a little at her earlobe and flames shot down to her toes.
“Really. You’re a good man.” She ran the back of her hand across his brow, pushing the flop of hair out of his eyes.
“You think more highly of me than I deserve.” The words were flippant, but he planted a soft whisper of a kiss on her nose. His hand shook as he moved it up her back and rubbed a knot between her shoulder and neck. She near melted against him as he loosened the tension.
“And here I believed I was supposed to be the witch.” She moaned his name as he pressed harder into the sore muscle. “That feels so good. How do you do that?”
“As if I’d tell you my secrets. I know what you do with secrets.” He snickered a little but thankfully didn’t stop.
“Are you mocking me and my plan?” She gasped as his fingers dipped down the back of her dress, beneath her corset. God, if only she could rip it off and give him everything, let him take away all the tension so her body was complete jelly.
“Not at all.” He planted a kiss on her forehead. “I’m laughing because for some reason I find your willingness to manipulate men rather attractive, which is, well, continued proof that I’m a yutz.”
“No, you just recognize and enjoy a true creature of the night.” Isabelle rocked up so she could give him her own playful nip.
“You are no mere creature, madam.” He cupped her head again, stroking her hair. “You were born to rule.” And the way he gazed at her, as if it was true, as if he was actually impressed by her and not her money or her family . . . Tears swam beneath her eyes. As if she was really like her father. God, if only one of her potential husbands would look at her like that, would see her.
But they didn’t. And wouldn’t. They all had too much else to watch out for. So instead, she drew back from him and gave him her best bemused smile. “With an iron fist.”
They stared at each other for a long moment, and a thousand words poured through her mind, a thousand things she wished she could tell someone—no, that she could tell him—tell Aaron. But that wasn’t his role in her story. She would have to take what she could get while she still had him.
“So, no intercourse.” He rubbed her thumb with his, circling once more.
“But everything else.” She nodded, forcing herself into the moment, to take it as the gift it was.
“Have you done anything else? Besides what we did together?” he asked, with no mocking in his voice, still worrying and stroking with firm but gentle touches.
“No, though I’ve touched myself and I know what I like. At least a little.” The honest words fell out with somehow no embarrassment and very little thought. Drawing up on her knees, she shifted so she could burrow herself against his chest once more.
“You’re quite eager.” He grinned at her as he matched her position, his hand coming around to grip her back.
“Well, we only have so much time, and I want you.” More than anyone or anything. “Nothing else in my head makes sense right now but that.”
“Then by your leave.” He made a sweeping gesture, his eyes boring into her, as if he was waiting for her command.
Oh, if only there were more time and more privacy. What they could do . . .
