Page 67

Yes. You trust him.

That was true, she did trust him, which was an interesting discovery she’d have to examine later.

For now, though, she forced herself to inhale, then exhale. As she exhaled, she felt the worry seeping from her as well. And as that sensation left her body, others crept in.

She could feel his breath against her most intimate folds; could feel her own pulse under his palm still on her hip.

The base of his hand was cupping her mound, and it felt… Goodness, it was difficult to describe, sort of a protection? A cradling?

Oh, do stop trying to describe the sensations and just enjoy them.

Yes. Yes, a rather good idea, all things considered. She’d just enjoy the sensations and then later examine them—

His mouth found her labia, and all coherent thought vanished.

A sound—a cross between a mewl and a moan—seemed to be echoing in her ears, and it took a moment to realize it was coming from her throat. Griffin licked and teased and at one point even drew her skin between his lips and tugged, and all the while his fingers were stroking and dipping in and out of her opening.

Good heavens.

Good heavens.

She’d had sex. She’d given birth. In the previous decade, she’d learned about self-pleasure and masturbation, and even experimented with various small insertions.

But this…

This…

Good heavens, this was nothing like her fingers.

Eventually Felicity quit making noise because she had to inhale, but she continued to squirm under his ministrations as her fingers curled around the counterpane, as if to keep from taking flight. Her behind was off the mattress once more, straining upward to match the pleasure he was showing her.

Yes, pleasure.

This was what she’d been searching for, these answers. She’d known Griffin would be the one to explain this to her, and now—

And now—

She could feel her orgasm building behind the pressure he applied to her clitoris. She needed that—needed him…

And then his mouth moved, his lips finding that bud, and he flicked his tongue over it once, twice…and her pleasure exploded.

“Oh God!” Her cry was garbled as she thrust her hips off the bed, pushing her mound close to him. His fingers were inside her, and she felt her inner muscles contracting around them, even as she panted from the fierce sensations coursing through her veins.

In the midst of it all, she swore she felt him chuckle.

But no, that couldn’t be right. This grumpy pretend husband of hers, laughing?

And then his fingers slid from her. Her hips swiveled, a strange feeling of unfulfillment seeping from her, a desperation, despite the gentle hum in her veins.

The bed dipped as Griffin crawled up her body until his hands were placed on either side of her shoulders, and instinctively she reached around his waist to bring him closer. His chest pressed against hers—the scars tight centers of harshness as they brushed against her nipples—and she urged him even closer.

“Please, Griffin.” She wasn’t above begging. “I need…”

Felicity didn’t know what she needed. Why was what he’d shown her not enough?

He held her gaze. “Do ye want more, sweetheart?”

“Yes,” she gasped. “Yes.”