Page 79 of Pleasure Games

She blinked up at him, carefully considering his question. Good, because it was critical to him that she knew what she wanted. What he wanted.

“Please?”

“O-kay...”

Relief washed over him and Luca curbed the urge to shout with joy. Instead, he took her hand and led her into an even smaller and quieter gallery adjacent to the one they’d just been in. Luca directed her to the corner, so she was standing behind a display of a statue and he stood close behind her, their backs to the wall. “Look at the sculpture. Read the inscription.”

“But I can’t read French...”

His hand slid beneath the hem of her skirt, moving upward. “Try. Say it out loud.”

“Um... Jean Hugues...” Her breath caught as his fingers explored higher: her thighs, her bare ass—Jesus!—the front of her.

“Luca?” She glanced over her shoulder. “Are you sure?”

“Shh,” he whispered. “Spread your legs, lean forward and keep reading.”

Instead of words, a soft gasp slipped out of her mouth.

The result was a fierce tightening in his groin. “There is no one else in this room. The light is dim. No one can see.” He was barely touching her, yet he could feel heat on the inside of her thighs and her skin was lightly damp. “Read.”

“Torse de jeune-...”She grunted when he delicately parted her soft lips.

“Go on,” he murmured, pressing his fingertips into her warm core.

“Fille.”She angled her head. “I’m not saying that right, am I?”

“You’re doing fine.” His other hand slid beneath her hair and around her neck as two fingers slid deeper inside of her.

“What...what does that mean?” She panted.

“Torse de jeune-fille means torso of a young girl.” Curving his fingers, he pressed against the satiny walls of her channel.

“Ahhh...” Her back arched as she raised her ass into his hand.

“Tell me, do you like being fingered in public?”

“Yes.” She rocked back into him.

“Are you worried someone will see?” He withdrew his fingers from her heat and rubbed the moisture across her pussy and clit before playing around the tight little opening of her ass.

“Maybe...but...no. Not really,” she said, followed by a soft whine.

Christ. So many things he still wanted to do with this woman. She was so willing and passionate and ravenous in her sexual appetite.

And she was here. She’d come. That had to mean something. She wouldn’t have come all this way just for sex. It had to mean more.

It did for him.

A man walked into the room, glanced in their direction and then moved to study the Renoir near the entrance. Jasmine squeaked softly against his palm.

“Shh,” he murmured in her ear. His hand drifted from her mouth to her jaw and down to her shoulder where he brushed hair away to place a soft kiss on her bare skin.

“Luca.” His name was a soft moan.

“I’m not going to stop until you come.” He nibbled her ear. “I want your come in the palm of my hand.”

His comment resulted in her grinding into his hand.

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