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The Player and the Pixie(41)

By:Penny Reid


Her expression softened and a small smile danced over her lips. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to order you about. I’m a little nervous.”

I narrowed my eyes at her and saw the truth behind her words. “Don’t be nervous.”

Her shoulders lifted then lowered with a deep breath. “Okay. I’ll try. But sometimes nerves are a good thing.”

I snorted derisively. “Not in my experience. When I’m nervous is when I’m worst at this.”

She gifted me another smile and her words adopted an instructional air. “Kneeling at the end of the bed is much more comfortable than craning your neck and supporting your weight while on the bed. It’s a better position for me, too.”

“Why? Why is it better for you?”

“Because it’s easier for us to make eye contact if you’re not hovering over me on the mattress. Plus, you’ll be able to, uh,” she swallowed, cleared her throat, “you’ll be able to see more as well. Of me. Down there.” I didn’t miss the encroaching heat staining her cheeks.

I mulled this over, liking the idea of seeing more of her, down there. And I liked the idea of being able to watch her face again.

Decision made, I cast pride aside—for the moment—and slowly lowered myself to the pillow, holding her gaze the entire time and pushing her knees apart.

“Fine. I’m kneeling.” I flexed my fingers on her legs.

“Okay. What do you want to do now?”

“Everything.”

She released a light, melodic laugh that I felt at the base of my spine. My erection pressed against my jeans uncomfortably.

So much for taking the edge off.

“Specifically, what is the very next thing you want to do? What do you want to move and where?”

I licked my lips. “My first instinct is to spread your legs and dive in.”

She nodded thoughtfully. “How about, instead, sliding your fingertips lightly up my thighs? Or tracing them in circles behind my knees?”

“Why would I do that?”

“Because it feels good and builds tension. It prolongs the act.”

“Prolongs the act,” I repeated, turning this concept around in my mind and considering it from all angles.

“Yes. For a woman, if you want her to come before you do, you need to find that delicate balance between prolonging the act and providing fulfillment. You can’t provide fulfillment if you haven’t built tension. It would be like trying to force-feed me before I’m hungry.”

“Hmm . . . you want me to make you hungry.”

“Exactly.”

My eyes drifted to where her bathrobe opened. I stared at the creamy expanse of skin. An idea gripped me.

I lifted my fingers from her legs and untied the robe. I slid my hands inside, finding her body hot and smooth. She shivered.

“Are you cold?”

“No.” The word was hushed.

I traced a single finger from her bellybutton, between the valley of her breasts to her collarbone. I hooked it around the robe’s lapel and peeled it away, finding the distracting freckle on her collarbone.

Grasping her arm, I gently tugged her forward and licked the spot. She shivered again.

“What are you doing?” she whispered.

“I’ve wanted to do that for quite some time.”

“What?”

“This freckle. It taunts me.” I used my teeth, careful to nip instead of bite.

I placed my other hand on her knee. Then, as per her suggestion, lightly skimmed my fingertips higher, opening her legs, and drawing barely there circles on the interior skin of her thighs.

Her hips shifted. I moved my hand away. She whimpered.

“Tell me how to touch you, lovely Lucy.” I lowered my mouth to her pink nipple and licked it.

She gasped. “Don’t stop.”

Her little noises drove me mad. I pressed my hips against the mattress, trying to find relief for the stiffy in my pants.

“Don’t stop what?”

She hesitated, then said softly, “Don’t stop touching me.”

“Where?”

“Your fingers, on my . . . rub your thumb over my clit.”

Despite the pain in my groin I grinned, enjoying how shy she sounded as she coached me. “Gladly. Gently?”

“Yes. At first.”

I did as instructed, parting her and rubbing the pad of my thumb over the fleshy bud between her legs, and an odd thing happened.

Her sounds changed. And I listened to them.

I tried biting her breast and she grunted. So I tried swirling my tongue around her nipple and was rewarded with a breathy groan.

Trailing my mouth down her body, placing the light kisses she’d enjoyed during our first time together over her ribs, I pushed her back to the bed and spread her legs farther apart.