Page 53 of Impassioned
“Thank you for seeing me again.” His voice seemed different too, lower and rougher. Arousing.
“I was surprised you asked. And so soon.”
He took a step toward her. “I needed to see you. To…talk.”
She watched his hands flex and his chest rise and fall with rapid breaths. Last night, he’d discarded his coat and boots. Tonight, he’d only removed his coat.
“Is that all you wish to do? Talk?”
It took him a long minute to answer, and when he did, he sounded strained. “Yes.”
Constantine raked his hand through the front of his hair, tousling the light brown waves over his forehead. It made him look reckless. She liked it, then wondered if she might like it more if she’d been the one to do it. Oh, she was feeling quite audacious this evening.
She liked the sensation. She felt…powerful. Or as if she could be.
“I don’t know how to begin with my wife.” He pivoted toward the bed and reached out to grip the post. That had helped to steady him last night—she was sure of it. And that knowledge had filled her with a joyful satisfaction. She’d pushed him to the edge, and he’d stepped off it into wild abandon.
He continued, “She invited me to visit her bed later tonight, but I don’t know what she actually wants. There is so much I don’t understand about her.” There was an agony in his tone that tore at her chest. “I wish she hadn’t hidden herself from me.”
No one regretted that more than Sabrina. She hadn’t been able to see past her fear and anxiety to give this man—her husband—a chance. Moving toward him, she stopped just shy of touching him. “Is she hiding from you now?”
“No. I just wish I knew if she really wantedme.” He let out a low, harsh laugh. “Don’t we all want to be desired?”
“Is she desired?”
He let go of the post and faced her. She tried to imagine his gaze behind the blindfold. Did he keep his eyes closed, or was he staring at her, unseeing, through the fabric?
“Yes.” The word was barely audible. He cleared his throat and said it again, this time with more volume and weight. “You have to help me. I don’t know what to do. She suffers from some sort of affliction, I think, where she can’t face people without great effort. I wish I’d known this when we wed. I would have—” He exhaled and dropped his head forward to massage the back of his neck. “I would have been more considerate.”
“You might have guided her?” Sabrina asked, wishing they could go back and start over.
“I think so.” He exhaled. “It’s so hard to say. We both started with the absolute wrong expectations. But I am trying to set things right.” Turning, he sat on the edge of the bed, moving cautiously and using his hands to find his way. “I mean to seduce her, as you suggested. However, I don’t want to move too quickly. She is easily agitated.”
Sabrina’s chest expanded as she listened to him. Could this be her husband? She’d never estimated the depth of his thoughtfulness. “You seem to be such a generous person.”
As soon as the word generous left her lips, her mouth went dry with fear. She’d said that to him earlier, as his wife. Gathering her dressing gown in her fists, she squeezed, worried that he would put everything together and determine her identity.
Best not to let him think about it.
“Why did you want to see me tonight?”
He licked his lips. “I thought I might…tell you what I would do.”
“That is an excellent idea.” Her body was already hungry with need, just from the prospect of hearing himtalkabout what he would do to her. “What you would do to your wife if she were here?”
The intake of his breath, sharp and sudden, fanned the desire smoldering within her. “That would depend on what she would allow.”
“Pretend she would permit you anything. Would you kiss her? Caress her? Bring her release? Tell me.”
“I would feast upon her with my eyes. She’s the most beautiful woman I’ve ever known.”
Sabrina’s knees quaked under the aching sweetness of his words. “Tell me what you would do after you looked your fill of her. Imagine I am your wife.”
She saw him swallow, his throat working. “She’s nude,” he rasped. “I would kiss her—with my lips and tongue, exploring every part of her mouth.”
Heat pooled in Sabrina’s sex and built, like a fire taking hold from a flickering spark to an eager, hungry flame. “What then?”
“I would kiss along her neck,” he continued, his voice deeply sensual, captivating her with each word. “She smells like vanilla and apples, so fresh and sweet. The scent is most potent between her breasts, I think. I would bury my face there, cupping her flesh before I took one of her nipples into my mouth.”
