His mouth opened over hers, encompassed her lips and drew forth the only possible response—a whimper. Then a sigh. Abandoning the neckcloth, she turned her upper body into his and crushed her breasts to his chest, her palms flattening on the hot skin of his shoulders, fingernails digging into pliable muscle.
His tongue licked again, then he drew back and swore. Wrenching the silk free with two overhead turns of his arm, he rid his neck of the strip and tossed it aside. Snaring her eyes, he ordered, “Tell me why Miss Hales conducted the interview.”
Heart pounding madly, she remained resolutely silent.
“I’ll unlace your stays.” It was a glorious threat.
“Kiss me again.” The last syllable barely spoken, his mouth returned, harder this time, with more urgency. Hot and open and beckoning hers to be the same.
His fingers sped along her back, swiftly unlacing her corset while his tongue again quested for entry. Twisting upon his lap now, the ache he caused swirling everywhere, she granted it, parting her lips.
Yet his tongue remained beyond. “You come to me,” he demanded. “Give yourself to me else I go no farther.”
Though he requested it of her—and in no uncertain terms—Juliet was aware, achingly so, how he was giving her a choice. Proceed or not. It was her decision.
At last she’d found him! The one man above all others who met her requirements and exceeded many of them, she thought, almost purring her satisfaction as his male protuberance surged against her—Zeus.
Eagerly she braved venturing forth, extending her tongue past his lips and into his mouth, a tiny, triumphant sigh accompanying the action.
Immediately, their tongues met and engaged in a clash of discovery, one that echoed the fervency of his fingers frantic along her spine, deftly unthreading the laces. He sucked her bottom lip into his mouth and worried it with his teeth. She muffled a squeal as sensations streaked through her stomach and thighs.
Against the sensual onslaught, Juliet gasped for air. He gave her his.
A second passed and the pressure upon her ribs eased. Her lungs automatically expanded, taking in more of the life-giving, lust-affirming essence that was Zeus.
Groaning deeply, he tore his mouth from hers in order to work her corset over her head, dragging the stiff boning past distended nipples that hungered for more attention, atop breasts that felt strangely expanded and heavy. “I need…need you…” Courage, Juliet. Just tell him. “To massage away these aches you’ve roused.”
Zeus threw the contraption to the floor, taking little nips and nibbles of her chin, her neck, working his way down, more than ready to massage away her “aches”. Just as soon as he created a few more.
“Why,” he gasped, delirious on the taste of her, on the scent of passion rising between them. Her hands were wild upon his chest, nails raking through the hair covering his torso, her unbridled enthusiasm sending riotous vibrations straight to his groin. After nuzzling the inviting curve of one breast, Zeus pulled away and framed her cheeks within his trembling grasp. “Why hide behind the screen? Why hide this lovely body…this precious face?”
Grey eyes glinted. “That’s three I refuse…” Defying his fragile hold, she leaned forward and kissed his chest, ran her lips over one pectoral while scoring her nails across the tops of his shoulders, drawing a shudder from his body. “Refuse to answer. Three! Your breeches off. I want to see you again. Need to see you.” Her fingers went to the fall of his buckskins. “Take them off! And your drawers…”
Zeus chuckled. To have a lady—his lady—this eager for their marriage bed… Could a man such as he ever want for anything greater?
She scooted back on his thighs and together they wrested his shaft from confinement. At once, her spirited zeal wavered. Silvery eyes flashed from his to the bounty in her hands, and his amusement fled.
Breathing like a stallion after a hard, sweaty ride, Zeus took in the look of wonder on her face, suffered her delicate exploration, and realized—whether this was truly her first time or not—he had a character reference to live up to. Couldn’t go blasting off like some unlicked cub.
As you did not an hour ago?
Damn!
While he sought the best way to slow their sexual journey so he didn’t reach the finish line before she’d barely left the gate, Lady Juliet renewed her agonizing ministrations, lightly, reverently it seemed, fondling the length of his rod with such curiosity and care she created her own brand of torture. One designed to enrage his body while enthralling his mind.
“Thank God I did spew earlier,” he muttered, raking his hair back so he could watch without interference, “to my everlasting shame.”
“Hmmm? And why is that?”
Every tentative, tormenting motion of her fingers upon his erection stole more of his typical reserve, else he wouldn’t have spoken aloud. Wouldn’t have confessed, “Or I’d be in no position to withstand your torture.”
“My torture?” Posed as though she liked the sound of possessing such an unexpected talent. Emphasizing the torturous power she had over him, she tightened her fingers.
“Aye. Your touch upon my cock feeds my fantasies, fires my blood.” His dirk jumped within the renewed, heartier grasp.
“Are they always this thick?”
“They?” He strove to block out the increasing dribbles and drips coming in from the window, spraying the back of the settee. Stinging his bare shoulders. Why did it have to start raining again so hard now? When she was caressing him in such a manner?
“Your male protru—”
“My cock. Aye, when aroused.”
“Leth’s was never—”
Thoughts of raindrops drowned in the deluge of jealous and protective urges that seized him. Her words choked off when his fingers clamped on her nape and tipped her head up until their eyes met. “Let us be clear. When you’re touching me like this, I don’t ever want to hear his name cross your lips, is that understood?”
“Aye.” Her hold secure around his poor, beleaguered male protrusion, she blinked up
