Page 67 of When the Rogue Returns
His eyes gleamed at her. “I know what makes you wet.”
Daringly, she laid her hand on the bulge in his trousers. “And I know what makes you hard.”
“You,” he growled. “Youmake me hard.”
Only me?she wanted to ask, but she couldn’t bear to spoil this moment by asking if there’d been other women over the past ten years. She wanted to know, and she didn’t. How could she bear knowing?
He fumbled with the buttons of his trousers until he got them open, but was so impatient to undo his drawers that he couldn’t manage it, so she brushed his hands aside and did it for him while he shamelessly caressed her breasts.
When his shaft sprang free, she took it in her hand and began to stroke. “I remember this eager truncheon of yours,” she teased.
“A fitting companion for my new Isa,” he said hoarsely. “My bold, wanton Isa. My wife.” Taking her hand, he leaned forward to rasp in her ear, “Touch yourself,lieveke.”
“T-touch myself?” Surely he couldn’t mean... He couldn’t know... She drew back to eye him warily. “What are you talking about?”
He dropped his gaze to look at her below. “I always wanted to watch you caress yourself. Back then, you could barely share my bed without blushing, much less try something so naughty as to take your own pleasure—but I imagined it countless times.”
Casting her a challenging glance, he pushed up her skirts, then laid her hand between her legs. Lord helpher.
“Don’t tell me you don’t know how,” he said in a guttural voice. “All these years alone, you never touched yourself intimately? Never thought of me as you put your hand inside your nightdress—”
“Victor!” she protested, though the thought of having him watch her while she didthatmade her decidedly hot and bothered.
He simply arched an eyebrow, and she knew she couldn’t lie to him. “If... if I did happen to do it, once or twice, it doesn’t mean I could... that I would ever...”
“Do it for me?” A wicked look of knowing crossed his face. “Not even a little?” When she swallowed hard, he added, “I’ll do it for you, if you’ll reciprocate.”
Thatreallygot her hot and bothered. “All right.” The words were out of her mouth before she could stop them.
But his smile of satisfaction kept her from taking them back. He grabbed his aroused shaft and began to stroke, harder and more roughly than she would ever have dared to do. She watched, fascinated, as his flesh lengthened and grew darker.
“You too,” he rasped, nodding to her hand.
“Oh. Right.”
At first she did it only to oblige him, moving her fingers mechanically over the slick folds she’d learned to know so well—toowell for a respectable woman—during all those achingly lonely nights.
But the more heated his gaze on her became, the more arousedshebecame. There was something so delightfully carnal about having him watch her and revel in her pleasure. Before long, she was panting and wriggling and feeling the rise of her release just beyond her reach.
With an oath, he lifted her onto her knees, urging her to rise up over his rampant arousal. “Come down on me,” he commanded. “Take me inside you, Isa.”
That was definitely not something they’d done together, but it didn’t take much imagination to figure out what he wanted. As she impaled herself on him, he let out a coarse cry that sent delicious shivers along her spine.
He began to move at once, grinding up against her. “Ride me,lieveke. Oh God, please... ride me...”
So she did. And it was glorious. She could control the motion and set the pace, make him gasp or make him growl. She felt like a queen of old, able to seize and hold whatever she wished. In no time at all, she felt herself hurtling right to the edge.
He must have felt it, too, for his jaw went taut and raw heat shone in his eyes as he rose to meet her every motion. “Yes...” he hissed. “That’s it... Oh yes, wife...Mywife. Always.”
“Always,” she echoed.
Her release came with a thunderous explosion that rocked her to her very soul.
Then she collapsed on top of him, spent and limp. He clutched her to him, both of them breathing hard. She could feel the racing of his heart against her breast, where her own heart clamored like the Scottish drums at a military tattoo. His hands stroked her bare thighs, calming her, settling her.
When at last his breathing slowed and his heartbeat steadied, he pressed his mouth to her ear to whisper, “And now I know what makes you come.”
A laugh bubbled up inside her. Turning to kiss his stubbled cheek, she whispered back, “And I know the same for you.”
