Page 16 of Scoundrel for Sale
The knot gave way, and he watched her work the ties free from their eyelets. Her breasts were full, the perfect size to fill his hands, and each time she worked a loop free he saw another tantalizing inch of creamy skin through the whisper-thin linen of the shift.
At last, the stays fell open in the front and Abbie shrugged out of them, tossing them to the floor. She glanced up at him, her eyes shy.
What she saw on his face must’ve reassured her, because her lips slowly curved into a smile. She stalked forward and placed a hand on his shoulder, then, to Gabe’s delight, hiked up her shift and climbed into his lap, straddling him.
He was just an inch or two taller than her in this position, and, in addition to stroking her hands up and down his chest, she began kissing her way across his jawline.
Gabe let his head loll back. “I don’t know if I can do this.”
She froze. “What do you mean? Do—do you want me to stop?”
“God, no. I mean, I don’t know if I can keep my hands off you when you’re doing that.”
“Oh!” She glanced him up and down, eyes wide. “If it would help, we could tie your arms to the chair.”
He groaned. No, that did not help, not at all. That was the type of thing he had Dream Abbie say to him all the time.
She peered across the room. “Or perhaps it would be better to tie you to the bed.”
“You’re going to have to tie me to the bed if you keep teasing me like this.”
She blinked up at him, her eyes going slightly unfocused. “Is that what I’m doing?” A wicked grin snaked its way across her lips. “Teasing you?”
“Oh, dear. You like that, don’t you?”
“Mm-hmm,” she murmured, threading her fingers into his hair. Her voice was husky when she whispered, “Let’s see how much teasing you can take.”
Somehow this seemed like a wonderful idea and a terrible idea in equal measure. He hadn’t been with a woman in years. Women weren’t exactly thick on the ground when you were on campaign, but in his early years in the army, he’d managed liaisons with a couple of willing widows in Portugal. But Gabe hadn’t been with anyone since Hart’s death. He’d known nothing could ever come of his feelings for Abbie; he’d just married her off to another man, for Christ’s sake. But the prospect of another meaningless encounter had lacked whatever appeal it once held.
Having been without a woman for six years, Gabe would be concerned about his ability to hold out in the least arousing of circumstances.
He chanced a quick glance down, where gorgeous Abbie was squirming in his lap in her whisper-thin shift. This was the opposite of the least arousing of circumstances.
He was in deep, deep trouble.
And it was about to get worse, because Abbie’s lips began inching their way up his chin, lingering over his bottom lip before she tilted his head down and kissed him full on the mouth.
It was agony to keep his hands at his side, not to be able to cradle her head, or pull her body flush against his, or run his hands over the beautiful, full breasts that brushed tauntingly against his chest, reminding him that they were just inches away. Abbie’s kisses were eager, yet tentative, as if she wasn’t sure quite what to do. Considering her only experience with kissing, as far as he knew, was with Dulson, it was perhaps unsurprising that she hadn’t learned much in the way of technique.
But Gabe had enough technique for the both of them, and so he took charge, tilting his head to the side and sweeping his tongue across her lips. She hesitated just a beat before opening for him. As he caressed the rim of her lips with his tongue, she made a sound of surprised pleasure. She began copying his motions, timidly at first, but with growing confidence, especially after he growled his approval into her mouth, and soon their tongues were tangling deliciously.
Abbie’s motions were growing more frantic. Her hands scrambled against his chest, slid over his shoulders and down his back, causing her breasts to press against him. She seemed to enjoy the contact, for she made a mewling sound and began undulating against his torso, which was the most exquisite kind of torture. But she didn’t move to press her sensitive core against his cock, which was perfectly positioned for her to take her pleasure. This made Gabe wonder if she knew about the little pearl between her legs.
He flexed his hips, rubbing her there, and she froze. Slowly she lifted her gaze to him, her eyes glassy. He began circling his hips and she cried out, burying her face in his neck.
“No. Look at me, Abbie.” He nudged her with his shoulder, and she raised her head. Her face was intoxicated with pleasure. “That’s right, love. Let me see it. Let me see what I’m doing to you.”
“Oh, Gabe, that’s—that feels so… so…”
He used his knees to nudge her legs farther apart as he continued to rock against her, and she cried out again. “Tell me how it feels,” he demanded.
“So good,” she gasped. She’d picked up the rhythm and was now riding him, setting the pace she desired and experimenting with different angles until she found the one that pleased her most. Her nails dug into his shoulders, and the pain made his pleasure all the more piquant.
His cock flexed its approval, and Abbie laughed. “You like this, too, don’t you?”
“God, yes.” He bent his head and began kissing her neck. He tried not to leave marks all over her petal-soft skin, but he was so far gone he wasn’t sure he would succeed.
“Ooooh, Gabe! That feels good, too!” She gave a breathless chuckle. “I thought I was supposed to be the one teasing you.”
