The Earl and His Virgin Countess(19)
Her lips formed the O he’d said he liked so much.
“You’re looking at me.” He pointed up. “I do hope your resolve is stronger than a simple grope of your breast.”
“Challenge accepted.” Steeling herself with a lung-filling breath, she focused her attention on the center of the canopy where the emerald fabric gathered and began to count the puckers. One, two, three—his hand squeezed again. She could have sworn she felt the layers of her skirts rising up her legs but he was obviously trying to get her to break her concentration. She would do no such thing. What number had she been on? Right. Three. Four, five. Six was a rather large gather in the canopy fabric. Seven, eight, nine.
She hissed as he touched the ties of her pantaloons. Between choppy breaths, she tried to focus. Nine. No, I already did nine. Ten, eleven—his hand reached in to caress her most intimate parts.
“Andrew!”
“Ceiling, love. Remember, think about God and country.”
“I am quite certain God would consider this a sin.”
“God has far more important things to worry about than what you are doing in this bed right now.” He parted her lower lips and a gasp escaped her upper ones. Dear heaven, she finally understood what the maids giggled about. Pleasure filled her, and dampness pooled between her thighs. “You are so wet.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Sorry? This is the best gift you can give a man. This is proof you enjoy our intimacy. Shows me you are ready to take my—cock deep in your body.”
She snuck a peek at him, but he wasn’t pay attention to her face. His concentration lay on the area between her legs. “So this feeling deep in my abdomen is normal?”
“Does the feeling make you want more?”
Muscles she had never known she had were coming to life with every touch. “Yes.”
“Do you touch yourself, Miranda, when you think you are alone and no one will catch you?”
Somewhere through the fog of passion, she managed one single word. “Where?”
“Where, she asks.” He sounded so long-suffering, she giggled. “Here or here?”
His thumb rubbed her in just the right spot as another finger entered her. Unable to form words of any sort, she only shook her head.
“Never? Well, that is something I can’t wait to remedy. The thought of you pleasuring yourself makes me want to spill my seed right now.”
“You want me to touch myself.” Coming up on her elbows, she slammed her knees closed and locked his arm in place. There was no way ever she would touch herself like he was, and certainly not with him watching. Her face burned with mortification as she tried to ease away.
“Relax sweetheart.” He kissed the outside of her knee. “And, yes, I most definitely want you to touch yourself.”
“Why?”
Resting his cheek against her knee, he grinned. “I want you to be able to tell me everything you enjoy. But how can you tell me if you haven’t had the experience? If you have never yourself found out.”
“And you want to watch me while I do it…?” she asked, the last part of her sentence so quiet, she wondered if he’d heard.
“Why are you whispering? It’s only us.” Equally quiet, he answered, “Hell, yes.”
“Down there?”
“Right here.” Adding some pressure to her clit, he rubbed the sensitive nub until her eyesight blurred and she barely caught the moan that tried to escape. “Maybe here.”
“You can’t mean you want me to touch…well…inside?”
His gaze met hers, slightly glazed over and filled with a strange hunger. And, if she were the betting sort, she might wager her own were showing a mixture of confusion, shock and embarrassment.
“Why not? It’s your body. Who has more right to touch it than you?”
“I didn’t think anyone should be touching it. Well, maybe a doctor, if necessary, but he would never look. You look and touch, and I—”
“Do you dislike this?” He moved the digit in and out, each time, the waves of pleasure grew, making her weep.
She tried deny it felt good, but she lived by the rule of honestly, so she shook her head.
“Anything I do that you dislike, I need you to tell me. Do you understand? If it hurts, scares you, or if the sensations become too much, I can’t know what you are feeling if you don’t tell me. Do you understand?”
She nodded and figured what she didn’t understand would make more sense later. “What you were doing...is that normal for couples to do?”
“I can’t speak for other men, but I quite enjoy touching you, feeling your juices cover my skin, and hearing those lovely little meowing sounds you make like a cat that got the cream.”