He tilted his hips and pushed himself a little farther into her mouth. “Stroke your hand up and down,” he instructed hoarsely. “Tighter. Grip tighter. Close—God, I’m so close. You should—I can’t—”
She didn’t stop. She wanted to see him lose control, wanted to be the one to push him to the peak of pleasure.
“Anya, I’m going to—”
She lifted her head and stroked him as his entire body went rigid. He pushed himself hard into her hand, every muscle straining and shaking. Spurts of viscous white liquid jetted over her fingers, his stomach, cooling rapidly in the air.
Anya felt almost dizzy, her heart filled to bursting. She took her hand away and rested it on his thigh, savoring the feel of the corded muscles twitching beneath the fine cloth. “You can release the chair now, Mr. Wolff,” she croaked.
He was panting, his chest rising and falling in great gusts as if he’d been running. His member lay against his stomach in the open fall of his breeches, only marginally smaller now that he’d found release. He gave a deep, contented sigh and stretched his arms out in frontof him, then brushed her hair back from her face with a tender caress. He used his shirt to clean her hand and his stomach, then rebuttoned the fall of breeches.
Anya rose shakily to her feet. He opened his arms to her.
“Come here.”
He drew her down onto his lap and buried his face in her neck. “Thank you. That was incredible. Like nothing I’ve ever experienced.”
She nestled her head into his shoulder, suddenly shy, and he pressed a kiss to the top of her head.
So that was the male climax in all its glory. She’d been surprised, certainly, but not disgusted. He’d obviously received great pleasure, and she’d enjoyed giving it to him. Her entire body was filled with a thrumming, restless energy.
He pulled back to look at her and gave her a smile that heated her blood even more. “Now it’s your turn.”
Chapter 25.
What the hell had just happened?
Seb felt as if he’d been taken apart and put back together in a completely different configuration. Never had he allowed himself to be so vulnerable during a sexual act, so completely at the mercy of another. Usually it washimtaking charge, issuing commands to direct his bed partner with cool, practiced assurance.
Not this time. He’d never realized how sexy it would be to cede control. He’d liked it. No, more than liked it. He’dlovedit.
Anya’s hands and mouth had been gently questing. Instead of firm competence, she’d been sweetly tentative, and it had been the most erotic experience of his life.
He’d meant to put her at ease, to give her the power to explore him after her admission of a prior bad experience, but he’d been the one to receive the gift. The fact that she’d placed her trust in him was profoundly gratifying; he felt honored that she’d chosen him to help her past her misgivings.
Having a woman finish him with her hand or her mouth was usually something he did to take the edge off before engaging in full sex, but on several previous occasions, he’d caught himself looking out of the window, thinking of something else, as if he weren’t fully present in the room.
That certainly hadn’t been the case this time. His attention hadn’t wavered for a moment. He’d never forgotten who was with him. Anya. An extraordinary, infuriating enigma. A puzzle hewouldsolve… as soon as he returned the favor.
Sebastien—it seemed ridiculous to call him Wolff after what they’d just done—helped her to her feet and stood. Without a word, he took her hand and led her through the doorway into her bedroom.
Anya went, unresisting. Who would have thought, when he’d propositioned her back at Charlotte’s, that he would end up being her first lover in truth? She had no misgivings. He was the perfect man to relieve her of her unwanted virginity. He was gentle, despite his size, honorable, despite his reputation.
No lamp had been lit. The four upright posts of the bed loomed out of the darkness. He turned her by the shoulders so her back was to him.
“This dress is very fetching, but I’d prefer to see you out of it.”
His fingers were swift and sure as he unbuttoned her as efficiently as any lady’s maid. The bodice of the dress was boned to act as a corset too, so when she peeled it off her arms and let it fall to the floor in a puff of teal, she was left in only her silk chemise and drawers.
The cool air on her skin was a thrilling contrast to the warmth of his breath on her shoulder, and a wonderfulconfusion swirled in her belly, the promise of secret delights. She shivered, but not from cold.
She was no longer an ice princess, untouched by earthly desires. Anya could feel herself warming, melting like the fictional Snegurochka. The problems with that were obvious; she couldn’t afford to care for Wolff any more than she already did. Even now, she was dangerously attracted to him, not just physically, but emotionally too. She respected him, trusted him. He was a good man, fiercely loyal to those he loved, dedicated to his work for Bow Street and to making his business a success. He was strong enough, and cynical enough, to protect her from men like Vasili.
But their brief liaison couldn’t possibly last. They were like two ships blown together by a freak storm. They would part company soon enough. But at least for tonight, they could enjoy each other’s company to the utmost.
The heat of his chest warmed her back through the thin silk of her chemise. He slid his hands to her hips and tugged her back against him, soft against hard, and she marveled at the difference in their size. He was huge, hot and muscled, but she felt nothing but worshipped as he bent and kissed her neck, her jaw, the sensitive hollow behind her ear. She tilted her head to grant him better access, a wordless demand.
“Do you like that, Miss Brown?” he teased with a low laugh. “You’ll like this more.”
