She did nothing more than cup him, unsure what was permissible, what gave delight. He felt vibrantly alive. And impressively big. Difficult to believe he’d pushed that rigid weight inside her last night.
In her ear, his breath was an unsteady rattle. Astonishing that she’d so swiftly brought this worldly man to the brink. She bit her lip, summoned courage, and curled her fingers. He shuddered and lowered his head to her shoulder to mutter profanities that sounded like prayers. The sensuous softness of his hair brushing her cheek contrasted pleasurably with the virile power in her grasp.
Discovering his body through touch alone was fascinating. He’d explored her with the attention a mapmaker devoted to an unknown coastline. Whereas he remained terra incognita.
Not after tonight.
Feeling like the bravest woman in Creation, she fumbled with his breeches.
“Bella…”
“Roll onto your back.” Much as she resented its presence, the blindfold lent courage she doubted she’d muster under his knowing silver gaze.
She waited for Jonas to mock her boldness, but the mattress dipped as he shifted. Sidonie kneeled above him to stroke his rod through the opening of his breeches. She tightened and released her grip in a primeval rhythm.
“Damn it.” He sounded in pain.
“Should I stop?”
“Good God, no.” He demonstrated his sincerity by raising his hips. “How the hell do you know to do that?”
“I want to please you.” Changing the pressure, she drew upward to the tip. Her thumb smeared a drop of moisture across the head.
“Holy merciful God.” He slid away, breaking her hold.
An incoherent complaint escaped her. “What are you doing?”
“Undressing,” he muttered.
Quivering with impatience, she waited. “Can I take off the blindfold?”
“No.” He leaned over her, pressing her onto her back.
When he scraped his teeth over her nipple, she jumped at the sharp pleasure. She wriggled and bent her knees to frame his hips. When she reached down to continue her intriguing experiments, he grabbed her hand. “No, Sidonie.”
Chagrin flooded her. “You said you liked it.”
His laugh was rueful. “If you touch me, I’ll explode.”
“I’ve never—” She drew a shaky breath. “A man’s body is a mystery.”
“My apologies for curtailing your investigation.”
Odd how humor stoked desire. Last night, giving herself had been such a desperate matter. Now laughter lent spice to passion. “I’ll further my inquiries later.”
He gave an exaggerated groan. “If I survive that long.”
She loved his laughter. She loved that he faced the world with a reckless smile on his scarred face. Her heart crashed against her chest. A revelation descended. A revelation unrelated to the desire heating her blood.
She didn’t just want Jonas Merrick. She didn’t just find him fascinating. She liked the reprobate. She liked him more than she’d liked anyone. When she left, longing for the lover would burn like acid. But the true tragedy was she’d miss Jonas himself. Nothing would fill the gap he left in her life.
He ran his hand down her body to her mound. She felt another of those surges of wet heat then forgot self-consciousness when he kissed her with ravenous hunger. Still kissing her, he stroked along the sleek folds. He found a particularly sensitive place and circled his finger until she whimpered and dug her fingers into his shoulders. He slid one long finger into her and worked it in and out. A powerful pulse beat in her belly and her breath emerged in broken sobs. He pushed her higher, but every time she came close to breaking through into that bright world, he’d stop, only to build response again.
“You devil.” She shifted restlessly. Lights flickered behind her eyes. His fingers curled against a spot inside her that vibrated with delight. She felt herself beginning to fall, to melt, to yield. He pulled away again.
“Stop tormenting me.” She was a tortured mass of nerve endings. Pleasure hovered out of reach, more agony than delight.
“Not yet.”