Page 56 of The Virtuoso

There was such affection in her tone, such pleased, bewildered exasperation, that Val felt the very opposite of awful. “I didn’t mean to be so rough with you. You are a lady.”

“I was rough with you,” Ellen countered. “I became a beast.”

“An awful beast.”

“God above.” Ellen’s sigh breezed over Val’s heart. “I was awful, wasn’t I?”

She sounded so proud, Val hugged her tightly, odd feelings coursing up from his chest. “A tigress pouncing on her prey could not have produced more awe in me than you did.” He nuzzled her neck. “You have got such a mouth on you.”

Her tongue flicked out and Val flinched away.

“For shame,” he scolded. But when she merely nuzzled lazily at his neck, he stroked his hand over the back of her head in an easy rhythm. “Insatiable tigress.”

“Mmm.”

He let her find simple comfort in his arms for long minutes, because it appeased some need he had as well, to hold her, pet her, and stay close even as his own arousal still hummed through his body. He couldn’t go at her like that again, not so soon, and maybe not ever.

No matter she was pleased as punch with herself and he with her. On a sigh, she turned her head so her ear was above his heart.

“Does this mean I’m wicked?” she asked, appallingly serious.

“It means you are passionate,” Val corrected her, tipping her chin up and holding her gaze. “Passionate is a good thing, Ellen. It is the antithesis of being asleep in the midst of life.”

“Asleep.” She sounded as if she understood his use of the term and frowned at him. “I was falling asleep, you know, before you came. It hurt too much to stay awake.”

“And right now,” Val observed with dry humor, “not much of anything hurts, does it? And a nap sounds just the thing?”

“Hmm.” Ellen curled down again so he couldn’t see her face. “Is that why men like swiving so much? It puts one in charity with the universe?”

“Or one’s little corner of it. But there’s much to like about it.”

“Really?” Ellen stacked her hands and rested her chin on the back of them to survey him like the feline he’d compared her to. “Like what?”

“To see you overcome with pleasure. I have never beheld anything as lovely.”

He saw the wind drop abruptly from her sails.

“It felt lovely,” she admitted, closing her eyes. “You made me feel lovely.”

“No,” Val said firmly. “Youarelovely, and you allowed yourself to see it and feel it andknowit for a few moments.” He believed that with every fiber of his being.

“I want to be under you again,” she announced. “Please.”

She wanted sheltering and comforting, and Val could not have denied her one thing at that moment. If she’d asked for his right hand, he would have passed it along to her without a word.

“Are you going to cry?” Val asked quietly as he rolled them and obligingly crouched over her. She scooted down until her cheek was against his heart and she could wrap both arms and legs around him.

“I might. I don’t understand it.”

He held her tighter without being asked, and she clung to him more closely. “I am your friend, Ellen,” Val murmured, stroking her hair.

“And my lover,” Ellen reminded him, stretching up to kiss his throat. She reached around to stroke his nape, and beneath him, Val felt their sheer bodily intimacy calming her. She shifted and caressed him with her sex, and he didn’t for an instant mistake the invitation.

“You’re sure? I can see to myself, if you’re not.”

“I want you inside me. Please.”

“I want to be inside you, but you have to trust me on this, Ellen.”