Before he could debate further with his conscience—frisking Thea in public had not been his plan when they’d set out earlier—she took the decision from him. She leaned forward to claim his lips, whispering just before they touched, “And now for two…”
The kiss was voracious, lacking restraint or finesse. Her tongue dueled with his as she murmured deep in her throat. As for Daniel, he couldn’t get enough of her, couldn’t slow the sensual onslaught. Overpower and take. Take her and drown yourself, seemed to be the litany commanding his actions.
He shifted Thea until she was astride him, wrenching that froth of sea blue higher until her thighs were bared atop the stockings. Her pale thighs, silken skin he couldn’t wait to touch.
Only he couldn’t stop framing her face with his hands, cupping her cheeks, threading his fingers through the elaborate sweep of hair. Couldn’t bring himself to relinquish her precious face long enough to explore the tempting dainties below. Her nails scraped over his jaw as she tilted his head to the side, brushed lips and then teeth over his cheek and chin, down his neck.
“Love the scent you wear, always have,” she told him just before applying suction to a part of his neck that inflamed his entire body. He stiffened everywhere.
Scent bedamned, he had to be in her, seize her against him or go mad trying. Were those her impatient fingers grappling with the fall of his breeches, slipping inside to stroke his length? Her fingers tightening into a fist around his shaft as he gave a ragged groan?
Had to be, he thought distractedly as he became aware of pure decadence, silky hot and sinfully sweet when his intrepid fingers journeyed far, fatalistically far from her head and—to his dismay and delight—met beneath the plump halves of her arse. Met and slid boldly along the seam between.
Where were her drawers? He was touching skin. Hot, humid skin he was so damn hungry for—
Breath labored, Thea’s clasp on his cock jerked. Her whimper came soft but unmistakable.
Don’t do it, some prudent part of his brain cautioned.
Oh, aye, do it, the flex of her bum encouraged.
Coated with her heat, his hands kneaded the firm flesh of her flanks, delved a bit farther into the crevice.
“May I…” His voice was a croak. He firmed his resolve and his palms, stretched his fingers just a wee bit more and was rewarded when her constricting anus met the tip of his longest finger. Daniel circled the digit around the puckered ring. Play here… “Linger?”
“Ahh. Um… Should I let you?” she breathed hotly against his neck. “Would a…” Mistress allow it?
He could just hear her mind asking the questions—Do mistresses truly do this? Or is it too tawdry? Totally taboo?
Will I be no better than a hedge whore or street doxy—
But then her hold tightened on his shaft and her luscious derrière rotated beneath his finger, answering for her, even before she said in a low whisper, “All right.”
He exhaled in relief and spread his grip over her arse cheeks, loving the feel of the warm flesh against his palms. His middle finger? It wasn’t going anywhere. Except deeper. When he navigated the perimeter of the impossibly tight ring, exploring both her body and the boundaries of what she might accept, she pulled his penis taut.
Pressure seized his groin. Longing filled his loins.
Longing to tell her what she meant to him, what exploring her like this did to his body, his mind, his heart—
“Is it terribly wicked? For us to do this here? Now?” Upon uttering this, she angled her body and his, rocking her hips until his stiff and ready prick was nudging along slick folds.
To strum her, here of all places. A private box he’d purchased to salve his conscience and his past. A past that receded far into the shadows when she squirmed her creamy center against him again.
Daniel swore. Good God Almighty—he was close to exploding and wasn’t even in her yet. Not properly.
The hot cave of her arse threatened to suck him into its depths. He was sweating, drenched in desire.
Do it, he wanted to tell her, take me inside. No one will interrupt.
His damn finger—hell, his whole arm—shook with the force he exerted not to plunge it into forbidden territory.
Thea shifted forward, sliding along his shaft until reaching the crown. A slight wiggle of her pelvis and his cock eased into her as though greased.
She gasped, her feminine muscles pulling him deeper yet clinging together so tightly it was a marvel he could gain any friction at all. When she said, “Terribly wicked for you to touch me there,” and surged up, then back down, her feet on the floor giving her leverage, damned if her nock didn’t open and invite his finger in as well.
“T-terribly.” He covered the blunder by latching on to the smooth skin just beneath her ear. Deliberately teasing, he stifled the urge to move—he was liable to nail her to the ceiling if he let his body have its way. Speaking against her skin, he mused, “Shall I stop? With…draw and re…turn you home?”
Any answer she might have made changed to a gasp when he sucked harder. But as he eased the suction and plied his tongue over the succulent spot, she painted rainbows in his sky with her response. “Nay. ’Twould be a crime, for I believe I like being wicked with you here and now. Maybe later too.
“And not to belabor the point…” Every orifice he’d entered rippled against him as she spoke, enticed him to move, so he resisted. “But those snarls still need erased, I’ll have you know.”
When he made a sound in his throat, she consoled. “Not that I’m complaining, my lord…”
He swore her pelvis jerked against him in all the right places. Pulling him inward from both directions. “Not at all,” she offered on another gasp, her lips pressed to the newly sensitive skin of his jaw. “In fact,
