Touch Me

She debated knocking, but instead slowly turned the brass handle. The door silently opened and she slipped inside, closing the oak panel then turning the key in the lock. No fire burned in the grate and the curtains were drawn, cloaking the room in deep shadows. The room was cool from the lack of a fire and smelled of Simon-clean, with a hint of sandalwood.

She hesitated, waiting for her eyes to adjust to the darkness. And suddenly she saw him, or rather the shadowy outline of him, rising from a chair set before the empty hearth. With her heart pounding she watched him approach. It was so dark she couldn’t make out his features until he halted directly in front of her. Then she saw the desire in his eyes, felt the heat pumping off him. That warmth, the delicious scent of him all but rendered her woozy with yearning.

“I was hoping you’d come,” he said quietly. “You’re certain?”

“I wouldn’t be here if I wasn’t. But I have two requests.”

Simon pulled in a slow, unsteady breath. He’d sat in the dark for the last two hours, watching the fire burn to ashes, wanting her, his body aching for her, willing her to come to him, and more afraid than he cared to admit that she wouldn’t. And now here she was. Bloody hell, it was all he could do not to simply jerk her into his arms and drag her to the floor.

“I’ll do everything I can to grant them,” he said. Indeed, he couldn’t imagine denying her anything. “Tell me what you want.”

“Darkness.”

He pushed aside his twinge of disappointment. He wanted, very much to see her every movement, each expression, her gorgeous eyes dilated with passion. “Very well, although I’m sorry not to be able to see you better.” Forcing himself to move slowly, he reached out and untied the ribbon from the bottom of her braid then sifted his fingers through her hair. Soft curls spilled over his wrists, releasing the delicate scent of roses. He wrapped silky strands around his fist then brought them to his face to breathe deeply of their floral fragrance. “What is your second request?”

“Earlier tonight you pleasured me. If you’ll recall from your reading of the Ladies’ Guide, Today’s Modern Woman should strive to return pleasure when pleasure is given. Therefore, I wish to return the favor and pleasure you.”

She settled her hands on his abdomen and he sucked in a quick breath. Even through his linen shirt her touch set his skin ablaze.

“I don’t believe you’ll find that a difficult task.”

“Perhaps not, but you’ll allow me?”

“My darling Genevieve, you have my permission to take any liberties with my body that you so choose. Far be it for me to contradict the desires of Today’s Modern Woman. Especially when they so precisely match my own.”

“Any liberties?”

“Yes.” God, yes.

“Excellent.” Even the darkness couldn’t completely hide the slow smile that curved her lips, speeding up his already pounding heart. She lightly grasped his wrists and settled his hands at his side. “All you need to do is remain still…and enjoy.”

“Enjoying won’t present any problem, but remaining still…” His words tapered off when she began slowly pulling his shirt from his breeches. “That is going to prove a challenge.”

“I thought you harbored a weakness for challenges.”

“I do, however, there are challenges, and then there are-” This time his words ended on a quick intake of breath as her hands slid beneath the linen to lightly stroke his torso.

“There are what?” she murmured, leaning forward to press her lips to his throat.

“There are…” His muscles jumped beneath her fingers.

“Yes?”

He huffed out a laugh. “I’ve no idea. What was the question?”

Her fingers lightly circled the skin just above the waistband of his breeches. “You’re very easily distracted, Simon.”

“No, I’m not. At least, not usually.” Actually, never. She slipped a single fingertip just beneath his waistband and trailed it across his pelvis. “The problem is that you’re, ah, very distracting.”

“How like a man to blame someone else.”

“I’ll accept blame where needed. However, it’s hardly my fault that you’re so incredibly…” He pulled in another quick breath when her fingers coasted over his nipples.

“So incredibly what?”

“Um…distracting. I think. What were we talking about?”

She laughed softly, and slipped her hands from beneath his shirt, which he didn’t like, but it at least restored a bit of his ability to concentrate. “Raise your arms,” she said.

“Clearly Today’s Modern Woman likes to give orders.”

“Yes, we do. Those who obey are rewarded handsomely.”

“And those who don’t?”

She gently bit his earlobe and he could have sworn his eyes glazed over. “Are dealt with very harshly.”

“I’m certain that’s supposed to be meant as some sort of threat, yet you manage to make harshly sound extremely enticing.”

“Good. I want you enticed.”

“Be assured that I am.”

She brushed her pelvis against his erection. “Yes, I can see-and feel-that you are.”

“Entirely your fault, I’m afraid. I’ve been in an almost constant state of arousal since the first time I saw you. It’s become rather a problem.”

“How interesting that where you see a problem, I see only…opportunity. Don’t worry, Simon. I’ve every intention of taking care of that problem for you.”

“I can’t think of a single instance in my entire life when I’ve heard better news.”

“Now raise your arms.”

He obeyed and with a bit of help from him, she pulled his shirt over his head then glided her hands over his chest. “Put your hands behind your back.”

Her sultry tone quickened his pulse and again he obeyed. She bent down then moved to stand behind him. He felt something soft and cool slip over his wrists. Realization hit him and he sucked in a quick breath. “You’re tying me?”

“You did say any liberties, Simon. I thought since you’d mentioned that particular section in the Ladies’ Guide, you’d be intrigued. Are you reneging?”

Her voice was a heated purr next to his ear that shot fiery vibrations to his every cell. He recalled the fantasy she’d inspired the first time he’d seen her, wet and nearly naked in her bedchamber, his imaginings fueled by the words in the Ladies’ Guide.

“Not reneging,” he assured her.

“Good.” She finished with the ribbon and he gave his hands an experimental tug. Snug, but not tight. Certainly escapable for a man of his experience. Yet he had absolutely no desire to free himself.

She moved to stand in front of him. “For someone who spends most of his time sitting behind a desk poring over ledgers, you are very nicely made,” she murmured.

He opened his mouth to reply, but his words turned into a groan when she pressed her lips to the center of his chest then dragged her open mouth to his nipple. “To what do you attribute your excellent fitness?” she asked, interspersing each word with nipping kisses to his chest, all while her hands gently stroked his skin.

“Horses,” he managed to say. “Ride horses.”

Her tongue drew a lazy circle around his nipple. “So you like to ride.”

“Yes. Actually, I used to think it was one of my favorite things-until I felt your, ahhhh, tongue on me.”

“You like my tongue on you?”

“Like is an extremely lukewarm word to describe it.”

“Good. Because I liked your tongue on me.”

“Excellent. In case you harbored any doubts, my tongue can’t wait to be on you again.”