one hand down her side and gathered her sheer gown high on her leg.
“You’ve been bedding the wrong men.”
She laughed and bent one knee, sliding her foot along his calf. “Perhaps. So how do you intend to prove that you’re the right man?”
“I could.” His fingertips tickled over the top of her thigh. “Spread your legs.” No hesitation at all. She opened for him with a quiet, eager noise, her hips lifting toward his hand.
“And here I was, certain you’d want to see my breasts first. You seem so fond of them.”
“I know how to take my time.”
Her voice dropped to a whisper. “Are you going to take me?” Wilder slipped his hand under her gown, between her legs. “You mean am I going to fuck you?”
“Yes, are you—” A gasp, and her fingers clutched at the back of his head until her nails pricked his scalp. “I don’t have—I didn’t br-bring anything…”
Of course she’d be concerned about a child. “I won’t put my dick inside you.” Instead, he rubbed two fingers against her and groaned at her slick wetness.
Her breath hitched in and came out as a quiet moan, so sweet and innocent it made the words that followed unimaginably dirty. “You can put your cock anywhere you like as long as you don’t come in my cunt.”
He delved deeper, slipping one finger into her. “What about my tongue?”
“Where do you want to put it?”
Wilder grinned. “Where will you let me?”
Satira’s eyes fluttered shut. One heel dug against the bed, pushing her hips up and forcing his finger deeper. “If you keep doing that, I’ll let you put it anywhere.”
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37
Moira Rogers
He leaned over her so his mouth was close to her ear. “You want me to fuck you with my fingers while I tease you with my tongue?”
She turned her head so fast their foreheads bumped together and kissed him, hungry and desperate, and Wilder didn’t need an answer.
She liked kissing him, and he knew he could get her off plenty fast. He guided her tongue into his mouth and thrust a second finger inside her. Wet as she was, she was tight too, gripping his fingers as she made low, pleased noises against his mouth.
He forced himself to lift his head. “Nice and easy, right?” Moans turned to a whimper of protest as she dragged him back. “Don’t be careful with me. Want me.” And that was the heart of it, simple. Primal. Everything that excited him would do the same to her because what she really needed was to be needed.
Wilder pulled his hand away and sat up. “Do you want to know what I see when I look at you?” Wildly dyed red hair fell around her face in a tousled mess as she pushed up to her elbows, looking flushed and debauched with her gown falling from her shoulder and her breasts all but visible through the flimsy, clinging fabric. “Tell me.” Not a command. A plea.
He brushed the hair back from her face. “I see a beautiful woman who thinks she’s plain. But you’re not, Satira. You’re gorgeous, and your body could melt a man in his boots.”
“I don’t want to melt a man,” she replied, nothing more than a whisper. “I want to melt you.” She had been, since the moment he’d dragged her out of the busted lift. “Then kiss me again.” The darkness couldn’t hide her trembling as she rose to her knees and hooked one arm around his neck. Her body pressed close, rubbing silk against his naked skin as she kissed him.
He kissed her until the blood pounded in his ears and she clutched at him hungrily. Then he tilted her back to the bed and distracted her with a quick nip at her throat and a tease of his fingers as he slid down her body.
Arousal made her shameless. Her fingers twisted in her flimsy nightgown and eased it up until it pooled around her hips. Wilder urged her legs apart and lay on the bed between them. “Relax.” She lifted her hips, straining up toward him in silent yearning, and he pressed her down to the bed. By the time he let her come,
“You’ve been bedding the wrong men.”
She laughed and bent one knee, sliding her foot along his calf. “Perhaps. So how do you intend to prove that you’re the right man?”
“I could.” His fingertips tickled over the top of her thigh. “Spread your legs.” No hesitation at all. She opened for him with a quiet, eager noise, her hips lifting toward his hand.
“And here I was, certain you’d want to see my breasts first. You seem so fond of them.”
“I know how to take my time.”
Her voice dropped to a whisper. “Are you going to take me?” Wilder slipped his hand under her gown, between her legs. “You mean am I going to fuck you?”
“Yes, are you—” A gasp, and her fingers clutched at the back of his head until her nails pricked his scalp. “I don’t have—I didn’t br-bring anything…”
Of course she’d be concerned about a child. “I won’t put my dick inside you.” Instead, he rubbed two fingers against her and groaned at her slick wetness.
Her breath hitched in and came out as a quiet moan, so sweet and innocent it made the words that followed unimaginably dirty. “You can put your cock anywhere you like as long as you don’t come in my cunt.”
He delved deeper, slipping one finger into her. “What about my tongue?”
“Where do you want to put it?”
Wilder grinned. “Where will you let me?”
Satira’s eyes fluttered shut. One heel dug against the bed, pushing her hips up and forcing his finger deeper. “If you keep doing that, I’ll let you put it anywhere.”
www.samhainpublishing.com
37
Moira Rogers
He leaned over her so his mouth was close to her ear. “You want me to fuck you with my fingers while I tease you with my tongue?”
She turned her head so fast their foreheads bumped together and kissed him, hungry and desperate, and Wilder didn’t need an answer.
She liked kissing him, and he knew he could get her off plenty fast. He guided her tongue into his mouth and thrust a second finger inside her. Wet as she was, she was tight too, gripping his fingers as she made low, pleased noises against his mouth.
He forced himself to lift his head. “Nice and easy, right?” Moans turned to a whimper of protest as she dragged him back. “Don’t be careful with me. Want me.” And that was the heart of it, simple. Primal. Everything that excited him would do the same to her because what she really needed was to be needed.
Wilder pulled his hand away and sat up. “Do you want to know what I see when I look at you?” Wildly dyed red hair fell around her face in a tousled mess as she pushed up to her elbows, looking flushed and debauched with her gown falling from her shoulder and her breasts all but visible through the flimsy, clinging fabric. “Tell me.” Not a command. A plea.
He brushed the hair back from her face. “I see a beautiful woman who thinks she’s plain. But you’re not, Satira. You’re gorgeous, and your body could melt a man in his boots.”
“I don’t want to melt a man,” she replied, nothing more than a whisper. “I want to melt you.” She had been, since the moment he’d dragged her out of the busted lift. “Then kiss me again.” The darkness couldn’t hide her trembling as she rose to her knees and hooked one arm around his neck. Her body pressed close, rubbing silk against his naked skin as she kissed him.
He kissed her until the blood pounded in his ears and she clutched at him hungrily. Then he tilted her back to the bed and distracted her with a quick nip at her throat and a tease of his fingers as he slid down her body.
Arousal made her shameless. Her fingers twisted in her flimsy nightgown and eased it up until it pooled around her hips. Wilder urged her legs apart and lay on the bed between them. “Relax.” She lifted her hips, straining up toward him in silent yearning, and he pressed her down to the bed. By the time he let her come,
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