Page 17 of The Collector's Temptation

“This is Byzantine,” I whispered, my fingers hovering just shy of the glass case.

“Late period. Eleventh century,” Aston confirmed. “Rumored to have been stolen from a monastery and returned to its original owner in the seventies. Or so they say.”

“Are you always this full of half-truths and shadowed history?”

He stepped closer behind me. “You’re drawn to mystery,miette. It’s part of your fire.”

I turned toward him, intending to reply with something witty, but the words caught in my throat when I realized how close he’d come. His face was only inches from mine. His eyes, so pale they almost glowed, locked on my face with an intensity that made my heart race.

“You should warn me when you’re about to say things like that,” I breathed.

He smiled slowly. “Would it help?”

“Probably not.”

When his lips brushed mine, I leaned into him. His hands slid from my waist to my back, pressing me close enough that I could feel the effect I had on him. His hard length was hot against my belly, making my inner walls clench as my panties dampened.

I gasped when his tongue brushed mine, and he swallowed the sound, one hand slipping to cradle the back of my neck. This was more than a kiss. It was a claiming. One that quickly spiraled out of control.

My fingers slid up to his lapels, curling around them as he shifted, pinning me gently against the paneled wall behind me. My thighs trembled as one of his wedged between them.

I made a sound—half whimper, half plea. His groan was low and rough before he kissed me again, harder this time.

His hand slid up my thigh beneath the slit. I arched into his touch, overcome by the rush of desire roaring through my veins.

“Aston,” I gasped into his mouth.

He pulled back an inch, breathing hard as his forehead rested against mine. “You’re too damn tempting. This isn’t how I want our first time to be.”

“Maybe—”

He didn’t let me finish my suggestion before he added, “But I’m not going to leave you wanting,ma petite miette.”

He traced his fingers over the gusset of my panties before slipping one inside. My eyes fluttered closed with a moan, and my head fell back against the wall as his finger dipped between my hot, slick folds.

“Merde, you’re soaked.”

His hips bucked against me, and I felt just how hard I was making him while he coated his fingers with my wetness. It gave me the courage to whisper, “Only for you.”

“Exactement,” he growled before claiming my lips in another deep kiss.

Then he worked the tip of his finger inside me, pumping the digit at a torturously slow pace that left me desperate for more. I let out a small whimper of protest when he twisted his hand, but it turned into a moan of pleasure when he slipped his entire hand into my panties and began to massage my clit in slow circles.

“You feel so good,miette. Hot. Tight. Do you like this?”

“So much,” I panted, rolling my hips in an instinctual move that ground my pussy against his hand.

“Are you going to come for me?”

I felt the pleasure building in my body, my muscles taut. “I think so.”

“That’smabonne fille.”

I’d been fantasizing about him calling me his good girl just like that ever since he taught me the phrase a few days ago. But it was even better hearing it for real. So much so that the next swipe of his fingers had me seeing stars as I flew apart.

“That’s right, Kerrigan. Come for me, just like that. Let me know how good I just made you feel.”

When my body finally stopped shuddering, I collapsed against my chest, my knees going weak. I probably should’ve been embarrassed by what had just happened, but it seemed fitting that the first orgasm Aston gave me happened while surrounded by such beauty…even if the setting was wildly inappropriate.

---