Page 69 of The Lady’s Guide to Deception and Desire
And that place where his member hung!
His voice was rough. “It’s all yours, Rosie.”
Stepping forward, she laid her palm flat upon his chest.
His heart was beating fast. Her own was too, though he wasn’t touching her at all.
Placing his hand over hers, he guided her fingers towards one small male nipple.
He stiffened and closed his eyes as she teased there, and she was intrigued to see that nub of pink tighten—just as her own did when she caressed them sometimes, beneath the covers, late at night.
It had always been a pleasure, to touch herself in that gentle way, offering her body languorous strokes. Not just her breasts but her belly and thighs, and that hidden part, which grew wet when she delved with her fingers.
Did it please him too?
She closed her fingers more forcefully around the tiny button and his eyes flew open again.
The expression in them had changed, though she couldn’t say exactly how. He was standing quite still, as if waiting to see what she would dare next.
Did she dare?
She wanted to touch every part, to know his skin as she knew her own.
Taking her hand downward, she crossed his abdomen, all the way to the thatch about his manhood.
With her gaze upon his girth, she grasped full around, filling her palm, then squeezed.
He moaned, and jerked in her hand.
“Rosie!” There was a pleading in his use of her name, and his hand came down to close over hers again. But not to stop her; he held her firm.
It was strange how hard he was, rigid and hot down the length, yet silky soft at the same time. Where the head rose bulbous, she rubbed her thumb, finding it slippery.
Though she remained fully clothed, her skin prickled. That part of her she sometimes delved with exploring fingers had the same sleek wetness. Thinking of Benedict knowing that intimate place brought a strange ache and a tug, as if her body were telling her what it needed.
“This goes inside me.” Rosamund had never been explicitly told but, touching him, she knew.
“Rosie!” His voice came thick. “I want to, but you must know I never have… I don’t know how it will feel for you, or whether I’ll hurt you.”
She looked into his face. “I don’t think you will. Even if it does a little, it will all come right, because I love you Benedict.”
He was already too close.
Could he hold off?
If he let her touch him anymore, it would all be over. If he touched her, or kissed her, the outcome would likely be the same, but he could hardly throw her on the bed, yank up her skirts and bury himself with a few quick thrusts.
It wasn’t how he’d pictured this moment.
Besides which, though her body was designed for this in the same way his was, and he knew women could find the act pleasurable, his instinct told him she’d need more care than that.
He took a ragged breath. “You’ve some catching up to do. Let’s take off your finery.”
Just saying it sent a quiver through him.
Taking off her clothes.
Nothing between him and her skin. Passing his hands over every rounded part of her. And his lips; he wanted her flesh in his mouth—to taste her. To do all that while rubbing his cock between her legs.
