Page 57 of The Virtuoso

“Trust you?” She licked his chest as if it were smeared with the brandy glaze from a hot apple tart.

“No dragging me back to your cave by my hair, hungry tigress,” Val teased, but his tone was serious. “I could hurt you if I’m not careful, and I will not be responsible for that.”

“I’ll try to behave, but you won’t hurt me.”

“Depend upon it,” he growled, shifting down to meet her eyes. “But recall you are to pinch me if you think I’m even getting close to the near occasion, right?”

“And on your… arse”—she managed the word—“doesn’t count, because in certain moods, youlikethat.”

“You were paying attention.”

She smoothed her hands up his chest. “And I expect in certain other moods you like to be pinched here.” She tested his nipples gently and was rewarded with a groan and closed eyes.

“Love it.” Which was a small revelation to him. “Adore it, but you said you’d behave.”

“I am behaving.” Ellen blinked up at him and pushed his hair back from his forehead. “You are stalling, though, Valentine. Make love to me, please.”

“Yes, love.” He lowered his forehead to hers, and the enormity of the moment threatened to overwhelm him. He wanted her desperately, and she was willing and even eager.

“Valentine…” Ellen singsonged his name as she lifted her hips, just grazing the tip of his cock with her sex. He didn’t flinch away but pressed minutely forward.

“Kiss me, Ellen,” he instructed sternly. “Now.”

Oh, ye bloody blue blazes… He teased and nibbled and flirted with her mouth as his hips teased and flirted his cock against her sex. She twined her arms around his neck, her legs around his waist, and let him manage as she rubbed her tongue over his and her breasts against his chest.

“Valentine,please…”

“Patience.” But to his own ears, his voice had a hoarse, distracted note to it, as if he were concentrating just as hard as she was.

And then, like an answer to a craving, the broad head of his erection was more than just teasing her, it was gently, so gently, pushing against her wet heat. Ellen shifted restlessly, maybe trying to impale herself on him, but Val went still and lifted his face from hers.

“You gave your word,” he reminded her, stroking her hair back from her cheek. “This is important, my love, and you promised.”

She nodded, meeting his gaze and drawing in a steadying breath. “For the love of God, please hurry.”

He had to smile, for she was flat out begging. “We will make haste slowly,” he assured her, dipping his head to kiss her cheek. “Hold on to me.”

She wrapped him closely and closed her eyes. He didn’t kiss her now, didn’t distract her with any other caresses or words or sensations, but let her concentrate on the lovely sense of being filled, joined, and physically loved by a man who treasured the privilege.

Treasuredher.

He wasn’t quite thrusting, but rather pushing carefully then holding his position, retreating only minutely, and then pushing even more carefully. There was progress, but it was maddeningly slow.

“I want to move,” Ellen whispered.

“Not yet,” Val muttered, his teeth clenched with the effort of his restraint.

“You won’t hurt me,” she assured him, but on the next tentative shift of his hips, she fell silent.

“Close yourself around me. Inside, as if you’d draw me into you a little or hold me still.”

She made an effort to comply.

“God, yes.” Val drew in a slow breath. “Now let me go.”

Her body eased, and he pushed one small increment farther into her heat.

“Again,” Val ordered. She slowly caught his rhythm and slowly, push and squeeze by push and squeeze, he was filling her, joining with her, and sharing with her the most incredible depth of pleasure. Her second orgasm welled up without warning, barreling out of the quiet around them just as she was constricting her muscles around him.