Page 12 of A Taste for the Peculiar

Carefully, she brings her fingers down her bodice. It’s strange and clumsy at first, but her hands are drawn to every pleat and bauble, toying with the textures as she makes her descent.

“Trace the curves of your breasts,” he instructs.

When she does, they hiss a breath, and that is far more arousing than anything she could do to herself. Looking at them in the mirror makes her heart quicken. Everything about them is honed on her. She wants to stare, to look at nothing but them, but when they catch her, they click their tongue.

“Eyes on you, Lady Avirin. Bring your fingers where you want them.”

The demand is overpowering, burning hotter than anything she has imagined on her own. Her fingers find the soft skin of her belly, then the curve of her mound, then —

The slick sound makes both of them gasp.

“There you go,” he murmurs. He watches her face more than her fingers, as if he can tell exactly where she touches just from her expression.

Does he know every body so well, or only hers?

His earring brushes the delicate skin of her shoulder. “Show me what you do in the dark of your room. Show me how you touch yourself when no one else is watching.”

Her toes curl in her shoes. This is a performance she never expected to give, and she feels suddenly foolish. What if she does something wrong? Her teeth scrape her lip, and she circles the sensitive nub between her legs, ears growing pink at the slick sounds of her desire.

It’s nearly loud enough to embarrass her, but before she can pull away, something grows hard against her back. She touches herself again, and when the sounds of her wetness grow louder, Lord Riften’s length twitches against her once more.

She isn’t sure why she does it. She shouldn’t, but she can’t stop herself from tentatively swirling her backside into him.

His grip tightens on her hips. That’s almost enough to make her moan, so she grinds and arches into him again, chasing that delicious friction until he holds her in place. “Do not focus on me,” he grits. Then, as if he knows she won’t listen, he reaches between her legs. She makes a hopeful sound, but Lord Riften does not touch her sex. He holds her wrist instead, moving her fingers into a new configuration before he presses against her knuckles to amplify the pressure.

The new sensation makes her mouth fall open. Somehow, the arousal has spread wider, reaching further, a slow build that seeps intently through her.

“Do you feel your pleasure deeper?” he asks.

“F — uck.” Her hips buck. Never has she said such a thing, never in the company of anyone else.

Lord Riften’s smile spreads against her ear. “What a mouth you have on you, my lady!”

They keep guiding her fingers, never touching where she wants them, but never releasing her. She melts back against them as if they are one. Her hand takes on a life of its own, no longer the shy touches of a girl. Under Lord Riften’s guidance, her movements are sensual and certain, seducing her to a peak so much higher than the ones she’s used to.

“Look at you,” Lord Riften breathes, bringing her eyes back to the mirror. “Look at the way your lips part. How your eyes roll back. How your neck arches.” With his other hand, he trails his fingers down her throat. The touch makes her spasm, and he moves her fingers faster, his mouth pressed to the back of her hair when he snarls, “You’re fucking exquisite.”

She whines.

Lord Riften forces her to find words. “What does it feel like?”

She clenches her eyes shut, trying to temper her sob into a pleading whisper. “It feels like I’ll die if you don’t — touch me!”

He chuckles darkly against her ear, never slowing his pace. “Oh, you don’t need me. But I’ll count you down, and you’re going to find your release. Can you keep your mouth closed, or do you need me to cover it?”

She fumbles for words. “I’ll keep it closed. I can keep it closed, I prom-”

When her sentence cuts off in a groan, he hums. “Mm, I doubt that.” Then he focuses the motions on the tips of their fingers. “Three…”

Their movements are tighter, drawing everything inside her to the surface. She reaches overhead with her other hand to find the back of their neck, grabbing hold of them as if that might keep her in one piece.

“Two…”

Quicksilver heat builds low in her gut. She tries to keep the rhythm, but her legs begin to shake.

“One and a half…”

She cries out, tangling her fingers in their hair. Lord Riften laughs, lips brushing the curve of her jaw before the command returns to their voice.