Never had she felt so sexy, desirable and purely feminine, inundated by a heady mixture of power, and she didn’t want it to end. As these sensations combined, her head swam with confidence. She sank her fingers into his thick mass of hair just as he eased his palm under her shirt to brush the curve of her breast. His big hand cupped the mound and gently squeezed. He lightly pinched her nipple.
Then he moved. A simple sway of his hips.
The half crescents of her nails dug into his scalp as she raked the tips over his hair. Intense, consuming pleasure shot from one side of her body to the other. That, combined with years of deprivation, pushed her beyond the limits of her control. She was famished for a touch, his touch, and clasped him wildly with her thighs, craving contact and pressure.
As if he, too, had reached his limit, Tristan tongued her more aggressively, his taste hot and masculine. He licked, nibbled, sucked, then alternated between the three, devouring her one tasty bite at a time.
The kiss was wild and savage, and it made up for every school dance she’d never attended because she hadn’t had a date, every party she’d never been invited to and every night she’d cried because no one had wanted to spend time with her. Right here, this moment, she was Aphrodite, pagan goddess of love and beauty, and men worshiped at her feet. Life and vitality beat through her veins.
“Tristan,” she rasped. “I need more.”
He tore his mouth away, panting, “Then more you shall have.” He paused a moment, then, and gazed at her, just gazed at her as if savoring the sight of her. “Had I known how eagerly you would respond,” he said, his tone hardening, “I would have begun the third lesson yestereve.”
“Too much talking,” she muttered, trying to recapture his lips with her own.
“Hmm, anticipation.” He licked her collarbone, the hot wetness of his tongue leaving a path of liquid fire. Finally, he claimed her lips again. But bit by bit, a small measure of sanity returned, clearing her passion-fogged senses.
As old self-doubts and insecurities teased the periphery of her mind, she loosened her hold on Tristan and forced her mind to dissect his words, not his touch. The truth hit her with the force of a baseball bat. He’d kissed her as if her mouth held the oxygen he needed for life support because of a lesson. A stupid, stupid lesson. She’d known that. Known it was practice. She just hadn’t expected him to wax poetic about being attracted to her first, as if he actually, truly wanted her. Which meant he’d given her a lesson all right. He’d taught her how douchey men could be.
A jumble of need and mortification, she shot from his lap, overly conscious of the sticky chocolate that still marred her skin. She didn’t move away but stood before him. With swift, jerky movements, she shoved her hair from her face and snapped, “I changed my mind.” She tried to sound confident and unaffected, yet didn’t quite manage the feat.
Reaching out, he attempted to gather her back into his embrace. She quickly sidestepped him, remaining free.
“Come here,” he said, crooking his finger at her. “Your lesson is unfinished.”
“Wrong. I’ve learned all I need to know about anticipation.” Please, Lord, do not let my voice sound as shaky and desperate to Tristan as it does to me.
“There is so much more I can teach you,” he uttered with a softer tone, a sexier timbre that set butterflies alight in her stomach.
“I’m not interested.” Not a lie, not exactly. She didn’t want to be interested.
“You are interested, draga.”
“Maybe, but it doesn’t matter.” She tried to tamp down the hurt burning inside her. She wasn’t angry with Tristan. No, she couldn’t be angry with him. He’d only been doing what she’d asked him to do: teach her to seduce a man. Yet she’d let herself forget that fact for a moment, and she hated herself for her stupidity, hated the ache in her chest. “It’s a temporary insanity, that’s all.”
“To want me, a woman must be insane?” he said, shoving the words through clenched teeth. He propped his elbows on the armrests and folded his hands together.
“No! Nothing like that.” She’d hurt his feelings again. Would she ever get this right? “I just…I’ve had enough pleasure for one day.”
He made a tsking sound. “Never has a woman needed more pleasure than you, sweet. Twice now you have come apart because of a kiss. You crave the pleasure I can give you. Admit it.”
That tone… even sexier than before. At this rate, she would cave within the hour, happily parting with her virginity, giving Tristan everything he wanted and forgetting everything she needed.
Julia whirled, fleeing as fast as her feet could carry her. Where she headed, she didn’t know.
“Julia,” he called, racing after her. He gripped her shoulders and spun her around, his expression dark with remorse. “I did not mean to upset you.”
“I’m fine.” Forcing a half smile, she looked past him, past the living room window. “Really.”
His strong, callused hands cupped her jaw, urging her to look at him. “Every warrior knows when his woman says ‘I’m fine,’ it is a death sentence. Tell me what I did wrong, and I will apologize.”
“You did nothing wrong.” Not purposefully, at least. “Just tell me when you begin a lesson next time. And don’t say sweet, meaningless things to me. I thought you really—” She closed her mouth with a snap. No way did she want him to know she’d thought he’d kissed her because he liked her, not because he actually found her attractive.
His brows knit together, his confusion palpable. “What does knowing about a lesson beforehand matter?”
“I have a right to know, that’s all.”
He tightened his grip on her, his gaze slitting dangerously. “This is not about the lessons, is it? This is about Puny
