Page 61 of Wicked Bonds

And the glimmer in his brown eyes told her he knew it, too.

Likely from her thoughts.

Or potentially because his confidence told him that just couldn’t be true.

His fingers continued to travel up and down her outer thigh from knee to hip and back again. Soft. Tender. Sweet. A tentative stroke to learn her reactions and body.

She understood the intent because she’d done the same to women and men alike.

Although, she wasn’t used to it being done to her.

That change suited her nicely. And she particularly enjoyed how he paused at her knee to gently dip beneath and stroke the tender area of her joint. Not many realized just how sensitive that space could be, but he exploited it now, grazing the skin and scattering goose bumps along her flesh.

The urge to close her thighs for friction grew with each tentative stroke, which she suspected was entirely the point.

He touched her so lightly, the purpose clearly being to inspire lust and stoke her need to a flaming inferno.

She didn’t fight it, choosing instead to revel in his attentions and allowing her body to react in kind.

His thumbs were magical, his fingers a benediction, his heat an addiction.

She closed her eyes and just melted beneath him.

Lost to the sensations.

To his enchanting existence.

To his knowledgeable touch.

Up and down, around, circling, brushing, teasing. Only the fingertips. Subtle pressure. Light strokes. Warm caresses.

He reached her hips again, this time tracing the bikini area of her thong and then down her inner thighs to the tender space behind her knee once more.

Heat bathed her skin as he bent to press a kiss to her hip, then his mouth began to follow the movement of his fingers. His tongue trailed along the lace between her thighs, tauntingly beautiful in its perfection.

“I can smell your need, Lee,” he whispered. “It’s a flavor in the air that tells me this is exactly what you want—to be worshipped by a man who knows how to properly indulge a woman.”

His teeth grazed the inner point of her thigh, skimming her femoral artery and nibbling enough to draw focus to that region of her body.

“Your goose bumps and shivers are louder than your thoughts, telling me where to go, how to kiss you, where to touch…” He trailed off as he continued his erotic torment, his mouth eliciting pleasure from her very soul.

True talent.

Beautiful patience.

Stunning seduction.

Leela would never be the same, and she was entirely okay with that fact.

“This is why I don’t need your mind, sweetheart.” His words resembled a dark promise against her inner thigh. “Your body is an open book, giving me every intimate detail.”

She fisted the comforter at her side again, mostly to keep from touching herself. Playing his game would intensify her pleasure. And that meant not giving in to the impulse to stroke her own flesh to completion.

“Your flush is gorgeous,” he praised. “A luscious shade of pink. It makes me want to move that lace to the side and see how prettily you glisten.”

She swallowed, his words an aphrodisiac to her psyche.

“So beautiful,” he added, his lips near her knee. “Your legs are the perfect length for so many intriguing positions. And your athleticism tells me you can handle all of them with a dancer’s grace.”