The heady taste of anticipation shocked as I looked from the pile of peach organza to the male whose eyes hadn’t left me.
My cream satin slip reached my thighs and showed almost half of my heavy breasts, the material sitting just shy of my nipples. I resisted the urge to fold my arms over my chest, and the urge to cover the wide flare of my hips.
My client’s hand had fallen slack, hanging beneath his hewn chin. But his expression remained impassive save for that glow of amusement in his gaze. I’d have worried that I wasn’t what he desired to indulge in until he said thickly, “Take a seat.”
I made to move from between his knees to the other side of the divan when his hand caught mine.
The touch singed and stilled.
Smooth and slightly roughened fingers curled around my own. “On my lap.”
I blinked, but he merely stroked his long fingers over mine and waited. I shivered, though I wasn’t the least bit cold. Then I awkwardly moved forward.
“May I touch you?”
My answer was whispered. “You already are.”
He smirked, all the warning he gave before he grasped my hips and lifted me as if I were nothing but feathers. My thighs fell astride his, my core close to his groin, and my hands splayed over his hard chest.
I withdrew one to tug at my slip before I could remember that it didn’t matter if he glimpsed between my thighs. Not when he was here to see and have all of me.
And as he snatched my hand to set it back on his chest, I was growing more excited than fearful of that by the second. “Much better,” he said.
I wasn’t sure if that were true. My heart pounded, and my stomach flipped.
Seeming to sense that, and I supposed he could, the male’s gaze momentarily dipped to my breasts. Slowly, it returned to mine as his hand slid up my back, tangling in my long curls. “Hair of pure snow and eyes of damp soil.”
My shoulders loosened, as did my fingers over his chest, when he gently traced the strands of hair at my back. “You are full faerie,” he said, almost a whisper, “yet so dreadfully innocent and full of heart.”
It hovered upon the edge of my tongue, the desire to refute his correct assessment. I didn’t. I watched his long lashes curl up and down as his eyes fell to my stomach, then to my thighs. “How is that possible, especially in a place such as this?”
I didn’t know he was referring to the middle lands in general until I said, “This is my first evening here,” and he smirked.
Apparently, he was well aware of that.
My eyes narrowed. “That is why you wished to meet with me?”
His lips lowered, eyes roaming back up my chest to meet with mine. “I prefer not to waste time with those who don’t know how to please, but I will admit to being too curious for my own good.”
I wasn’t sure why a knot of disappointment formed at hearing him say that. Perhaps it was because I’d long-wished to experience many things, pleasure at the hands of another included, and maybe this was indeed a test.
One I was failing miserably.
Fingers clasped my chin. I hadn’t realized my gaze had fastened to the peeling ivory paint upon the wall behind the divan until it was forced to collide with the male’s once more. “I am not deterred.”
“You’re not?” I surprised myself by saying aloud.
His thumb brushed beneath my lower lip, his eyes following. “Something tells me you will be eager to please me.”
Irritation spiked, causing me to open my mouth when it would have been wise to remember who held the power in this room. “Presumptuous and awfully arrogant of you.”
His brows jumped, and I braced.
He chuckled again, and a relieved exhale left me. “Is it, though?” he asked, and the way his mouth curved distracted. So much so, that when he leaned forward, I grew tense again. “I can smell you, sweet creature. You’re aroused.”
Heat drenched my cheeks, and he skimmed the side of his finger over one. This close, I could make out a small scar at his hairline, and notice the way his pupils swelled while I studied his soft-looking mouth.
“Indeed.” He groaned, and the hand at my lower back pushed my body into his until his length sat flush against my core. “I cannot help but think you will please me more than what is good for me.”
My head swam from the contact and his throaty words. Dizzied and feeling drugged, I leaned back with my hands braced upon his chest, needing to breathe.
He didn’t seem to mind, his touch at my face remaining and tickling as he traced my cheekbone.
Fear slipped away as I watched him—his rapt focus as he absorbed my every feature. The arch of my brows and the crest of my lashes were gently brushed.
His curious touch and hungry gaze emboldened me to study him in kind.
He was giant yet lean. Beneath the loose silk that gaped at his defined chest were rock-hard muscles. My fingers hesitantly crawled down to his abdominals. His hardness twitched against my core. It shocked me still, and he clasped my cheek.
My eyes lifted to find his were upon my mouth, his thumb pressed at the corner. “Such lovely lips. A perfect, silken bow. Tell me,” he said, nearly absently, “has anyone ever kissed them?”
Heat threatened to engulf my neck and face again, but I sensed what he wanted and shook my head.
“Kiss me, butterfly.”
I couldn’t deny that I wanted it, too, so I leaned forward. Doing so made his erection press harder against me, and a startled breath with low sound slipped free.
His hand clutched my cheek tighter. “Does that feel good?”
I swallowed, not needing to answer when my body leaned instinctively into his in response, seeking more of that sparking warmth.
“I’m still waiting,” he murmured, lashes dipping and his words heating my mouth.
“Yes,” I said and closed the small gap between our mouths, nerves long forgotten when my eyes closed upon the first touch of his lips meeting mine. I sat them against his carefully, savoring that I was truly doing such a thing.
That I was doing something I’d only ever dreamed about doing.
Then I slowly moved them. His lips parted at my urging, and a soft sound rumbled from deep within his chest. I skimmed and pressed, and after a minute, I licked just under his upper lip.
He was whiskey and winter. A poison so intoxicating, I greedily sought more.
I lost myself and grasped his cheeks. He tensed beneath me at my boldness, but when I made to withdraw, he clasped my rear. Firmly.
And then he kissed me back.
His silken lips claimed with hungry prying and pressing. He groaned and tilted his head, his tongue entering my mouth to meet mine.
I forgot why I was here. I forgot this male was a stranger willing to pay for my company. I forgot I’d ever been afraid and uncertain.
All I could feel was fire.
A moan stunned me, falling between us when his hips jerked and his length dug hard against me. He tore away, his eyelids heavy and his pinkened mouth tempting me to reclaim it. He swallowed, and I had the sudden and extreme urge to lick his throat.
The hand upon my rear squeezed then left, my skin chilled in its absence. My slip had risen, I realized.
He’d touched my bare skin.
Though it shocked, I didn’t mind. Especially when that same hand rose to my chest. A lone finger dragged along the edging of my slip over the swells of my breasts. I waited, almost asking him to tug it down to expose more of me.