Devil in Spring

She gave him a long, wondering gaze. Her fingers went tentatively to the white necktie that hung loosely on either side of his open collar. At his lack of objection, she pulled it free and reached down to the fastenings of his low-cut silk waistcoat. He moved to help her, removing the garment and dropping it to the floor. Next she unbuttoned the placket of his shirt to where it ended mid-chest. Staring at the triangular notch at the base of his throat as if riveted, she leaned forward to kiss him there.

“Why do you like that place?” Gabriel asked, his heart slamming against his ribs as he felt the delicate lap of her tongue.

“I don’t know.” Her smile curled against his skin. “It seems made for my—” She paused. “For kissing.”

Closing his hand in her hair, he guided her to meet his gaze. “For your kisses,” he said gruffly, ceding ownership of the spot whether she wanted it or not.

Her inquisitive hands explored the contours of his torso and chest. Carefully her fingers slipped beneath the straps of the braces that went over his shoulders and eased them down. It was the most erotic torture Gabriel had ever experienced, disciplining himself to stay still while Pandora took inventory of this new masculine territory. She kissed the side of his neck and played with the hair on his chest. Finding the flat circle of a male nipple, she rubbed the pad of her thumb over it, raising a tiny aroused point. Growing bolder, she maneuvered over him in a tangle of coltish limbs, trying to press closer, until one of her knees jabbed perilously close to his groin. Hastily he reached down to grasp her hips. “Careful, love. You don’t want me to spend the rest of the evening in a sobbing heap on the sofa.”

“Did I hurt you?” Pandora asked anxiously, subsiding on his lap.

“No, but for men, that place is . . .” Gabriel broke off with a primal grunt as he felt her straddling him. The feel of it was so scorching, so exquisitely incendiary, that he found himself only a few heartbeats away from release. His hands tightened on her hips to keep her still, while he closed his eyes with a quiet curse. Any movement at all on her part, if only to lift away from him, would cause him to erupt like a stripling lad with his first woman.

“Oh,” he heard Pandora exclaim softly. Her thighs tensed on either side of his. “I didn’t mean to—”

“Hold still,” he rasped. “Sweet merciful God, don’t move. Please.”

To his vast relief, she stayed in place. He could hardly think past the insane desire, his body struggling in every muscle. He could feel how hot she was even through the fabric of his trousers. Mine, his blood screamed. He needed to have her. Mate her. Taking deep, calming breaths, he shivered and gulped, and painstakingly brought himself under control.

“Are you thinking about the Queen?” he heard Pandora ask eventually, while the engorged length of his shaft throbbed vehemently between them. “Because if you are, it’s not working.”

Gabriel’s lips twitched at the helpful observation. He replied with his eyes still closed. “With you sitting on me in that sweet little nightdress, it wouldn’t matter if the Queen were standing in this room with a contingent of guards in full uniform.”

“What if she were scolding you? What if she were pouring cold water on your feet?”

Entertained, he regarded her with a one-eyed squint. “Pandora, I have the feeling you’re trying to deflate my protrusion.”

“What if all the guards had drawn their swords and were pointing them at you?” she persisted.

“I would reassure them that the Queen was in absolutely no danger from me.”

“Am I in danger?” Pandora asked hesitantly, which certainly wasn’t an inappropriate question for a virgin sitting on a half-naked man to be asking.

“Of course not,” Gabriel said, although he wasn’t certain either of them found that entirely convincing. “The safest place in the world for you is in my arms.” Sliding his arms around her, he eased her closer. As she leaned forward, the swollen ridge of his erection aligned with her soft cleft, and she caught her breath. He patted her hip reassuringly. “Does it make you nervous to feel how much I want you? The only purpose of this”—he nudged upward gently—“is to give you pleasure.”

Pandora glanced down between them dubiously. “Helen said it does more than that.”

A quiet laugh broke from him. He’d never known it was possible to be this amused and aroused at the same time. “Not tonight,” he managed to say. “I promised I wouldn’t take away your choices. And I’ll always keep my promises to you.”

Contemplating him with those wondrous blue eyes, Pandora rested more heavily on him, her lashes flickering in a double-blink as she felt the thick, involuntary twitch of his hard flesh nestled against her. “What are we going to do now?” she whispered.

“What do you want to do?” he whispered back, watching her in fascination.

They studied each other, both of them unmoving and pleasurably tense, invisible fuses burning. Very carefully, as if she were experimenting with some violently unstable substance, Pandora brought her mouth to his, trying different angles, searching and tasting with increasing fervor.

No woman had ever kissed Gabriel the way she did, wringing out sensation and soft fire as if she were sucking raw honey from the comb. The longer it went on, however, the wilder she became. One of them had to stay in control, and it clearly wasn’t going to be her, and she was making it hard. He groaned as she writhed on his lap. So damned hard.