Oh.
She felt her back arching and realized the muscles were no longer seized up. He would realize it at any moment—and then he would stop.
And she couldn’t let that happen.
“Is it feeling better?”
“Mmhmm.” She couldn’t lie.
His hands stilled but remained. How very aware she was of his warmth, his strength…the position of her body bent forward—of him standing behind her…
“Perhaps, I should…” he began, his voice low and gravelly.
Her body knew what it heard in his voice.
Desire.
Then she did it—committed the boldest, most audacious act of her life.
She reached back, placed her hand over his larger one, holding him firmly in place, and met his dark, intense gaze over her shoulder. Her fingers tightened around his. Even this felt like an intimacy—the connection of their hands…the humidity of skin against skin.
Only a scrap of thin white muslin stood between her body and his palm as she guided him around the curve of her waist…the flat of her stomach…beneath the hem of the shirt…to the V of her sex…hermons pubis…
Though his eyes were black as night, she could see the flare of his pupils had pushed the irises into thin rings. It was all she could do not to shift backward and press her bottom against the front of his trousers. She knew what she would meet there. His thick, hard manhood—ready.
“Touch me,” she said.
He didn’t move.
He didn’t speak.
“Please.”
And there it was. The smile from a few minutes ago. The one that just tipped at the corners of his mouth.
And now she knew it for what it was.
A wicked smile.
A shiver of anticipation traced through her, purling up her spine, tightening her nipples, swelling her sex with utter and absoluteneed.
He angled farther forward so his long body fully draped over her slighter one, and yet the only part of him that touched her were his long, masculine fingers pressed against the curls of her sex.
Oh, the fever of want and lust that licked through her.
His mouth met her ear. “Now who’s the one gone begging?”
13
Rake didn’t wait for her answer.
He knew it, anyway.
His mouth trailed to the curve of her neck, and his hand slid lower. The breath froze in her lungs, he could sense it in her stillness, the entirety of her being concentrated on the press of his fingertips as they made contact with her sweet, slick cunny.
Her bottom gave an impatient wiggle, and his cock beat out a hard throb, straining against the superfine of his trousers. If she kept at that, his control would slip.
His fingers slipped lower, until he found the sensitive nub she was hungering for him to touch. She gasped, her knuckles showing white as she gripped the table.