“It is the way I want right now. And it is something I wish to know.” She flashed him a coy smile. “I never thought I would have to beg the man of my choice.” She pressed her mouth to his. “Teach me, Daniel. Please.”
He gave in. How could he refuse her? He swept her up in his arms, carrying her easily to his bedchamber. He left her art and her supplies on the table in the great room, not because he’d forgotten them, but because she was so much more important. And while she wrapped her arms around his shoulders, he pressed his face to her neck and breathed in the essence of her.
“I will teach you,” he murmured as he tasted her neck. “But you must do exactly as I say.”
Li-Na had nevertrusted a man so completely, and yet when he pushed aside his bed curtains, she felt a tremor of fear. Was she being a fool? This was exactly what Mrs. Dove-Lyon warned against. No woman should enter a man’s bed without clear promises first.
But then she watched him light a candelabra and the glow touched his features with gold. She smelled the scent of him in his bed and she grew dizzy with need. And when he pressed his fingers to her hair and pulled out her pins, she let the weight of her worries drop away even as her hair spilled into his hands.
He would hold her. He would teach her. And she was safe as she learned. “I trust you,” she whispered.
“I don’t,” he rasped. “You’re so beautiful it almost hurts.”
She smiled as she let her head drop back. She felt the callouses on his hands as he stroked her face and neck. In her mind’s eye, he touched her as gently as a fine piece of art. He supported her, he admired her, and when he pressed his lips to hers, she lost herself in the pleasure of being precious to him.
She could spend a lifetime in kissing him, but he pulled away. She was kneeling on his bed, and her body swayed toward him, refusing to be released. But he stilled her, and then slowly, carefully, began to unbutton her gown.
How odd it was to have a man undress her. Never before had she allowed another’s fingers at the base of her throat, on the buttons between her breasts, or just above her quivering belly. Once the dress was loose, he pushed it off her shoulders. Air cooled the skin above her stays, but not for long. Soon, she felt the heat of his hands as he traced the fabric across her breasts and then down along her sides. He knew how to unbind her, and his fingers were deft as he pulled the garment away. She was the one who lifted up the shift and tossed it aside.
She had already given him her thoughts. Her body was less important to her, and yet, right now, she quivered with anticipation while her breasts finally felt free. She breathed deeply while he watched her with dark eyes in a golden face. How he had mesmerized her, she thought, this tiger of a man. Dark eyes, soft touch. And yet, his power was undeniable, as he stripped off his coat and shirt. Very soon, his chest was as bare as hers.
She’d touched him before. She’d seen the whole of him in the sunlight and marveled at the size and strength in him. This time, he was the one who seemed transfixed, and she delighted in the way he looked at her.
“Lie back,” he murmured.
She shifted her weight to comply, but he was already there, supporting her back, brushing her hair from her eyes, and easing her onto his pillows.
“Can you tell me how this feels?” he asked. Then he stroked a palm across her left breast.
It felt like what she wanted. Her nipple pebbled beneath his touch. Her skin seemed to tingle and swell. She breathed into his palm, and she whispered two words.
“Tiger fur.”
“What?”
She touched his arms, stroking the bulge in his biceps as she responded. “Have you ever petted a cat when the air is very dry? Your skin tingles, and yet it is so soft.”
His other hand joined the first as he played with her breasts. The tingles grew stronger, the feel sharper, and she gasped when he pinched her nipples.
“I will never understand why you call me a tiger,” he said.
She couldn’t explain. Not with words. She could only stroke his body and feel what he did to hers. He pressed his mouth to her left nipple, and her breath grew short. He nipped there and lightning sparked through her blood. Such things he did to her breasts, that she was soon arching into his touch as she begged him for more.
When he began to suckle her, she cried out, her legs shifting on the sheets as they tangled in the folds of her dress. She knew what came next. He had touched her between her legs before, and she ached for another quickening. But her legs were caught, and he kept his hands on her breasts as his teeth scraped the flesh around her nipple.
She imagined the nip of his teeth as claws piercing her skin. She felt the press of his body like the weight of a tiger with silky smooth fur. And she knew the rough of his tongue as he tasted her everywhere.
Then he lifted up and she whimpered at the loss. A moment later, she understood why. He stripped away the remains of her gown. His fingers untied her stockings and quickly skimmed them away. She was eager as he pressed his fingers to her mound. Her legs spread and her hands clutched at him, but the sensations built too quickly for her to speak.
Feelings collided in her belly, tightening her buttocks, lifting her hips, and heating her breath as she yearned for more.
Her legs were spread open. She had widened them herself, but now he pushed them further apart. Her knees braced on the opposite sides of his shoulders while his teeth scraped tiny bites on the inside of her thighs.
It took a while for the reality of what was happening to pierce the waves of sensation. She knew the mechanics of sex, but he was not settling between her thighs. Not with his cock. Instead, his mouth began exploring her folds. His tongue probed where his fingers had been. He was tasting her, and it felt incredible.
“Daniel!” she cried as his thumbs spread her open.
Then she lost words as his tongue thrust inside her before sweeping upwards until her whole body shivered.