He couldn’t breathe for long under the pillow. Pushing it aside, he lifted his head and opened his eyes, watching the rise and fall of his hips as they pistoned his shaft through the clasp of those delicious, rippling digits.
A glance from her showed the tip of her pink tongue moistening her lips. That move alone did him in. Feeling the drawing tightness in his loins, Kiers gasped out a warning. “I’m . . . coming! Crux is coming—!”
His hips snapped up in several hard, fast thrusts against her fingers. Guessing he wanted more of that sort of stimulation, Vee stroked faster, doing her best to clasp his shaft, though her fingers and thumb didn’t quite meet all the way around. He kept thrusting, hissing her nickname twice—then stiffened, back arched and hips lifted up from the bedding.
With an atavistic thrill, she watched the clear, seeping liquid turn into jets of creamy white. He collapsed for a second, then kept thrusting from the hips, one hand flying down to cover hers, coaxing her into continuing her swift, firm strokes as more and more spurted out. It spattered on his belly and hips, poured over their conjoined fingers, and finally turned back into a seeping dribble.
Patting her hand as his body stilled, Kiers coaxed her into gentling her touch. “Easy . . . be gentle at the end . . . that’s it, yes. Light and Life, you are very good at that.”
She smiled at the praise. “Always was a quick study. And I do love a treasure hunt.” Releasing his now softening manhood with a little pat, she wrinkled her nose at the liquid coating her hand. “Er . . . a question, Mister Kiers. Is it always this messy?”
Kiers managed a nod. His breath was almost back to normal, but the sated feeling in his body translated as a bit of post-bliss lethargy. “Usually. If you do it right. And you don’t have to call me ‘Mister’ since I think we’ve blown right past that point.”
She chuckled weakly. “I’d say so. And I insist you call me just Vee. I’d better go get a washrag, I think. I’ll be right back,” she promised, scooting off the bed with the help of her clean hand. “You just lie there while I fetch everything.”
“I’ll be waiting . . . Just Vee,” he teased. That earned him a mock-dirty look and a mock-swipe at his ribs. “Vee! Vee!” he promised, holding up his hands in defense.
Padding downstairs, she scrubbed her hands at the sink, then eyed the fire. It was starting to die down. Soapstone hearth or no, she didn’t think the fire had been burning long enough. Stacking a few more logs so that they would form a decent bed of coals, she dipped some of the steaming water out of the chain-hung cauldron into a bowl, then refilled the iron pot so that there would be a fresh supply of hot liquid to wash with later.
“Do you need help, Miss . . . Do you need help, Vee?” Kiers called down to her, waiting as patiently as he could for the second half of the night.
“No, thank you, Kiers! I was just stoking the fire. I’ll be up as soon as I’ve used the powder room,” she called back up the stairwell as she moved that way.
Her detour didn’t take long. Washing her hands again at the kitchen basin to make sure they were clean, she carried the bowl and a scrap of cloth upstairs. The moment she cleared the boards blocking in the stairwell shaft, she could see him stretched out on his side, right knee up, left palm propping up his cheek. The sight of her, showing up in her chemise and knickers, made his shaft twitch visibly.
Blushing, Vee carried the bowl over to the nightstand and dipped the rag in it. Wringing most of the hot water from it, she bent over the bed, intending to scrub his stomach. At the first hard back-and-forth rub, he winced and grinned, catching her wrist.
“Easy, woman. I’m not built like a set of floorboards,” he teased her. Fingers guiding hers, he helped her bathe away all the streaks she could still see, and all the ones he could feel on his skin. Their mutual touch slowed as the intimacy of the moment grew.
Finally, Vee turned to set the rag on the table. Kiers caught her free hand as soon as she did so, drawing her onto the bed beside him. Without a word, just a long, heated look, he lifted her fingers to his lips and showed her with just a few nibbling, slow kisses that toes weren’t the only erogenous extremities in the room. It didn’t take much for him to set her heart thumping in her chest, her blood rushing through her veins.
From there, he moved to her wrists, then to her inner elbows. Vee squirmed at that, giggling a little. He smiled, but didn’t tickle her armpits; instead, he pressed soft kisses to the bits of shoulder exposed by the broad, lace-edged straps of her chemise. Murmuring compliments, he kissed his way along her neckline to the shallow valley between her breasts.
She knew she wasn’t overly endowed; in fact, Vee didn’t even need a busk or any staves to support the cups of her chemise. Unlike the sort of woman she had tried to portray that night in the alley, there wasn’t all that much for his palm to cup. But the modest curves she did have were sensitive, provoking a soft moan from her lips when he cupped and caressed the left one.
“Ohhh, that feels good,” she sighed. Instinct drove her to dip her head and kiss the top of her lover’s head. A thought which gave her pause. My lover. That sounds so . . . thrilling.
Yes. My lover. Illicit and exciting, and . . . Vee stroked her fingers through his short dark hair, not at all bothered by it when he started slipping the buttons of her chemise through their tight little holes. It just felt right. The right moment, the right person, even the right place.
She sucked in a breath at the feel of his lips closing on the tip of her left breast. Shivered when he circled her areola with the tip of his tongue. Moaned at the sweet ache he inspired when he suckled firmly. “Oh, Kiers . . .”
“Mmm, Vee . . . so delicious,” he murmured, nipping lightly at her flesh. His hand shifted to each of her shoulders, drawing the straps of her chemise down and away, one at a time. Palm gliding up and down her arms, he caressed her skin even as he sucked again, making her head swim. Shaking her hands free of the fabric, she sank back on the bedding, uncaring that her chemise was trapped beneath her.
Left arm bracing his weight as he leaned over her, Kiers was free to knead her breast, to caress her ribs with his right hand. While his mouth worshipped her breast, he skimmed his fingertips down along the waistband of her knickers, then plucked at the ties holding her last garment in place. He smiled when she lifted her hips, but didn’t draw them down her legs.
Catching the curiosity in her eyes, he smiled and slipped his fingers inside the loosened material. Vee caught her breath, watching him with wide eyes. The sensation of his fingers brushing over the tender skin of her abdomen both tickled and unnerved her, stimulating her in unexpected ways.
When those same fingers stroked through the curls sheltering her mound, she whimpered faintly. Not from fear, but from unexpected pleasure. This wasn’t her own touch, familiar and safe. This was Kiers’ hand, where she couldn’t anticipate where or when he would touch. The unknown possibilities lurked in her mind, making her ache from head to toes.
It was a simple touch, a light rubbing along the outside of her folds, yet it stroked free a huge reaction. Bucking against his fingers, she shuddered, thighs parting with instinctive need. Her hands, however, reacted to her inner uncertainties, clutching at his shoulders.
“Shhh, shh,” Kiers soothed her, hiding his wince as her strong fingers pinched and dug into his mucles. “You know me well enough by now. You know I’m not going to hurt you. I just want to give you pleasure.”