“Enough to know that you’re the best. Now hush, I’m concentrating.”
She laughed and fell silent, enjoying herself as he treated the other breast to similar caresses until both nipples were proudly peaked. By now they were familiar with each other’s bodies, and knew the touches that best pleased. He knew how she loved to be kissed all over, very, very slowly, deferring the ultimate moment of pleasure so that it would be all the more exquisite. She was excited by the thrill it gave him when she ran her fingers lightly over his chest, and down to where he was leaping up to her.
Although she enjoyed his admiration it soon brought her to such a pitch of excitement that she grew impatient and tried to incite him with her own caresses. But he suddenly went into clowning mode, and prevented her firmly and with dignity.
“Madam, please stop that,” he said solemnly. “I’ve been reading a book about foreplay, and I want to practice.”
“Was it useful—this book?” she asked, falling in with his game.
“Extremely,” he informed her, poker-faced. “Now observe this next bit carefully, because afterward I’m going to ask you questions. And, hush! How can I create a romantic mood if you’re giggling?”
He was lazily drifting his fingers along the insides of her thighs, reaching the top, lingering for a shattering moment, before drifting away again. She gasped and dug her fingers into his shoulders as her arousal grew more intense.
“Did the book explain—the significance of that gesture?” she murmured in his ear.
“It’s supposed to put you in the mood.”
“But if I told you I was already in the mood?”
He became prim. “Then I would say you were a very forward young woman, and I’d be shocked. And the book didn’t warn me that you’d do that.”
“I’m sorry!”
“I forgive you, but I’ve lost the place now. I’ll check the index.”
“You let go of me and you’re dead.”
“You’re not being helpful at all,” he complained. “I’m trying to learn the nuances. A man is supposed to be subtle, not just go at it like a bull at a gate. The manual promised that this would make you appreciate me more.”
“I could hardly appreciate you more than I already do,” she said, fingering the part of him she appreciated most at that moment and trying to guide it toward her. “Luke,” she pleaded, “couldn’t you skip the subtleties and just charge the gate?”
“Woman, where is your heart of romance?”
“Let’s be romantic another time. Tonight I’m feeling very, very basic.”
“In that case,” he said, settling swiftly between her thighs, “let’s charge the gate together.”
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