Taming the Lone Wolff(54)
“Getting there,” he muttered. He pulled her onto her back and laid his hand, open-palmed, on her stomach as he leaned over her. The slick, cool fabric was no barrier to his explorations. He stroked her everywhere, his heartbeat racing as she squirmed and panted.
When he touched her between the legs, she stiffened, and her lashes closed tightly. “Relax, Winnie,” he said. “I won’t do anything you don’t like.”
One eye opened. “It has snaps.” The soft, barely audible whisper communicated mortified interest in what he had planned next.
“I know.” A wave of tenderness swamped him, tempering the hungry beast that rode him hard. He pressed gently at the groove between the pair of fasteners. Winnie groaned and lifted her hips.
He was rapidly reaching the point of no return. But there was one thing he had to know.
“Winnie?”
“Hmm?” She licked her lips.
“How many times have you done this? I’m not prying,” he said hurriedly. “Your secrets are safe. But I need to know.”
Long lashes lifted. Confusion warred with petulance. “One. Are you satisfied?”
“How long ago?” He’d had his suspicions, but hearing her say it aloud sobered him.
She flipped to her stomach, face buried in her arms. “Nine or ten years…give or take.”
The litany of curses that trembled on his tongue clamored for release, but he didn’t want to give her the wrong idea. Her innocence was a treasure to be unwrapped slowly. Though his impulse was to take and take and take, hearing the confirmation of her lack of experience told him that gentleness would be the order of the night.
Raw passion could wait. But at the very least, he owed her romance, courtship, tender seduction. He wanted to know why. Why him? Why now? But he had to be patient. Winnie would tell him eventually. He had to believe that. Or else he would go insane imagining the worst.
He tucked her hair behind her ear, exposing one pink cheek. “Thank you for telling me. I don’t want to do anything to make you uncomfortable.”
She rolled over, her chest heaving. Tears welled in her eyes but didn’t fall. “I’m sorry I’m not more experienced.”
“Good God, Winnie.” He stared at her, aghast. “Why would you think it matters?”
“I thought you might be disappointed in me.”
The way she said it made him think someone had told her such nonsense. And that she had carried it around all these years.
“You’re perfect. Just the way you are.” He shifted his body so that he was half on top of her. When he lowered his head for a kiss, he was happy to feel her arms come up trustingly to encircle his neck. She tasted like minty toothpaste and reckless temptation. Sliding his tongue between her teeth, he felt the moment when the tension in her body sagged and she responded to him.
She returned the caress with her tongue, but she was tentative, clearly shy. His pelvis rocked gently against her hip, letting her feel his need. The kiss lengthened, changed tempo. When he nipped her lower lip with sharp teeth, she cried out and curled a leg around his, moving urgently.
He changed positions, sliding down in the bed to spread her legs. Winnie’s hands clenched the sheet, but she didn’t protest. Putting his mouth over the two snaps, he wet the silk with his tongue. Winnie responded with a keening moan. He pushed harder, until the fabric nestled in her sex. Sliding a finger beneath the narrow strip of cloth, he found Winnie wet and ready, her body ripe with passion.