Damn. Had he really said all of that? His cock was so hard it was about to break free from his trousers. And her hand was resting on his thigh.
“Dane?” she whispered. “I came here tonight to do scandalous things, not just to hear about them.”
He set her at arm’s length. “No. That was the deal. I tell you a list of wicked things I’d like to do to you, and then that’s the end of it. You go home to your safe bed.”
“What if I told you that I would go back intothat ballroom and find another handsome gentleman and take his hand and lead him into a bower and kiss him?”
“I wouldn’t believe you because while you want a thrill, you also want safety, and that would be one line too many to cross.”
“You’re right, I wouldn’t do that. But I’d do this. I’d ask for a little taste. One small wicked thing from the long list you just gave me.”
Dane knew that what she was asking wasn’t right. One little thing—did that somehow make it better? Less depraved? It’s only a safe, controlled debauchery with clearly delineated parameters.I’m not going to ravage you, but you can have one debauched item of your choice.
“One wicked thing,” he said.
“Only one, mind you.”
She wanted to break free from her mother’s strict rules. He wouldn’t take her virtue, but he could do as she asked. Give her that small taste of wickedness that she craved.
“If I agreed to your request, what would you want?”
“To be touched.”
Christ, that’s all he wanted to do. Put his hands all over every inch of her, glut himself on her soft skin, her lavish curves. “Where would you want me to touch you?”
“Here,” she said and touched her breast, “and here.” She trailed a hand over her belly.
Watching her touch herself was his undoing. He’d give her one thrill, and he’d take nothingin return except the satisfaction of her sighs, her pleasure. He was selfish and good-for-nothing, but here in this garden he could unselfishly give her what he gave the best: pleasure.
“I won’t do anything you don’t explicitly ask me for, Sandrine. If you want to stop, simply say so. I’m not going to take anything from you. I’m going to give it to you, and your pleasure will be my only reward.”
This was his reward. Pulling her backward into his embrace until she fit perfectly against his chest. Wrapping his arms around her.
He couldn’t resist her whispered, dreamy-eyed request.
There were strict parameters. That made everything all right.
If he’d done his job right, she’d be primed and ready. He situated her back against his chest, his knees on either side of her. “Now, then,” he murmured in her ear. “We’ll start with this.”
Sandrine heard her mother’s voice in her mind: men are beasts, you can’t trust them, they speak with the voice of the serpent, tempting you to sin, dooming the world to darkness.
She believed him though. He said he wasn’t going to ravish her, and she believed that it was true. She was completely safe with him—if she wanted to be.
He would escort her back, and she could go home and think about this night and think about what a close call she’d had, how near she’d cometo danger. How she’d held her hand out to the flame but hadn’t been burned.
But she was already burning. His words had lit the fire of longing deep inside her.
She needed him to fan the flames higher.
She could flirt with disaster. With this man whom she trusted with her body in this moment. She could have a taste.
He slipped his hand under the edge of her bodice and cupped her breast lightly. She’d wanted him to touch her, to hold her. She was wrapped inside the circle of his arms, warm and protected.
When he shaped her nipple with his fingers, she had to bite down on her lip to keep from crying out with joy. She’d thought about him touching her as he talked, and the anticipation had built and built until she was stretched taut, quivering like an arrow pulled tight across a bow, ready to fly. He kept one hand in her bodice as his other hand drew soft little circles on her thigh, up her dress, over her garter.
“Spread your legs for me.”
She didn’t even think about disobeying. Her breath came in little gasps as he brushed his fingers over her inner thighs, coaxing them to fall wider. Her knees were supported by his, her back supported by his chest. She let her head fall back on his shoulder.