Page 92 of Shame the Devil

He could see her swallow, and he could see her smile. “I know,” she told him, and the words felt like a blessing, and hot as hell at the same time. She got her hands on that white cotton and pulled it straight over her head, and he sighed.

Well, yeah. That was the body he’d been thinking about ever since he’d first set eyes on it. Ripe. That was the word. He ran his hands over the fullness of her white breasts, brushed his fingers over the swollen pink nipples, and asked, “Should I be careful here?”

“Yes,” she said, with that little hitch in her breath that told you she loved it. “There.” Another secret smile, dirtier this time. “But nowhere else. If you want to get a little rough again …” And he got a kick of lust straight to his groin.

She was over him again, her hands in his hair, her tongue in his mouth. Sliding her way down his body, and he was hauling in a breath.

Greedy hands. Hungry mouth. Strong legs gripping him tight. No shyness in her at all. And he was running his hands over the smooth skin of her shoulders, down her back. Closing around the thrilling curve of her waist, and finally sending them over the fullness of her ass. Running his hands over her there, again and again, feeling her squirm against him, her mouth getting even more avid.

And then he trailed his hand around and found her. Wet and warm and …

Whoa.

He grabbed another pillow and shoved it under his head. He had tosee.

He said, “Holy shit. Sit up.”

His voice was hoarse. Well, yeah.

She didn’t quitesitup. She sort of …slitheredup, dragging her body over him like it felt good. Which, oh, yeah, it did.

He got his hand there again. “I’m guessing …” It was a little hard to breathe. “It wasn’t a tattoo.”

A slow smile. “No. I did this instead.” And she sat up. Kneeling over him, leaning back on her palms. Showing him everything.

She’d waxed. Yes, she had. She’d also pierced the hood of her clitoris.

All the blood was leaving his head. She had a little silver ring in there. Positioned vertically, so the tiny black bead at the bottom would rub against her with every touch. Maybe with every movement.

He’d heard of it. He’d just neverseenit. And the contrast between the frank barbarity of that ring and the memory of her white cotton nightgown was doing bad things to him. The gentleness of her smile, and the dirty-sweet shock of that nasty piercing.

She lowered herself over him and kissed his mouth again, and he kept his hand right there and rubbed that bead into her. And she squirmedhard.

He said, “Tell me why.” It came out demanding. He didn’t care.

“Because …” She sighed into his mouth, then kissed him some more. Her hand in his hair, her mouth wandering over to his ear, down to his neck. Exploring him. Tasting him. “Because I wanted to be a different kind of woman. I thought, if I don’t do it now, when will I? Why shouldn’t I feel as good as I can, even if I’m feeling it, uh …” She’d gotten a little breathless, because he was rubbing some more now. Sliding that ring through the hole. Experimenting. “By … myself,” she got out.

“Yeah?” he asked. “Is it healed enough to play?” And tested it out some more. Felt great to him.

“Feels …” she said. “So hot. And I want to have sex like this.”

Well, yeah. He could probably help her out with that.

First, though …

He got a leg around her hip and flipped her. His palms on either side of her shoulders, and now, he was the one doing the kissing.

No slow, sweet teasing this time. He was moving right down her body. He was going right there.

He said, just before his mouth closed over her, “This is one hell of a secret weapon.”

He could almost hearher satisfied smile. “I know. You can’t believe how good it feels. Walking around, even, if I start thinking. … bad thoughts. Doing the machines at the gym? Oh, yeah. And I have a feeling that riding a bike could get embarrassing.”

“No,” he said, and gave the silver ring a gentle little tweak. “I mean for me. If you’re bad, all I’ve got to do is hold onto this, and …”

She gasped and tightened, and as soon as she did, he had a finger inside her. “Yeah,” he said. “I’ve got you now, don’t I?”

“Yes. Yes.” It was a gasp. “Harlan.”