“Correct. Is it called affection, though?”
“What would you call it?”
He moves in, and my heart races. I know this man. He can read a nursery rhyme and make it sound wicked. “From last night, I would describe it as your devotion to me.”
“Try again.”
“Rapture?”
I shudder. “No.”
“A frenzy for what’s to come.”
That makes me hesitate.
“We should continue with that, yes?”
“But I have one rule.”
He arches a brow and patiently waits.
“No words or trite phrases you might say to one of the ladies you’re commonly with.”
Livingston holds a hand to his chest and appears shocked. That doesn’t stop him from moving closer. “That hurts. You believe I would do such a thing?”
I blink rapidly at him.
“I can’t say, ‘I’m poor with words, but rich with affection. Let me show you’?”
I lift a brow. “Yes, that’s precisely what I was referrin’ to.” Even so, the thought that he would give his attention, even for a second, to another woman fills me with jealousy. I know it’s wasted. This is Livingston I’m considering, but I want everything he says to me to be original.
“Of course last night I showed you some affection, and I plan to continue...for education purposes,” he quickly amends.
“Of course,” I agree just as quickly. He’s only two steps away. “Education is important.”
“I’ve never agreed more with you.”
It’s hard to say who kisses who or who meets who. His hands become tangled in my hair, and my arms wrap around his neck.
I love that his kisses are never soft. They’re needed and necessary as much as the very breaths he takes.
He groans before he pulls away, holding my face between my hands. “You shouldn’t bite.”
“And why not?”
There’s nothing but silence for several seconds, then, “Some men might not like it.”
“Is that why you just groaned?”
I may be a virgin, but I’m not a nitwit. That groan wasn’t born from pain.
“No,” Livingston replies his tone gruff.
“It seems to me that kisses should be like words. Soft at times or with rough edges, but they should never be planned.” I lift my head and stare at him. “No?”
Livingston brushes a finger across my lower lip. The corner of his mouth lifts, albeit reluctantly. “No. Never planned.”
What I secretly love about our conversations is the direction they move. There are curves and loops that neither of us sees coming but always try to. Blood courses through me at the idea of the same technique being used for this. My hands land on his hips and travel up. His stomach is tense, muscles bunched. He’s anticipating the same thing as me.
Livingston clears his throat and tries to resume control. “Now if I’m to teach you anythin’, it’s—”
My fingers are set in their ways and trail across his belt, brushing against his cock. For the barest second, I feel the long length of him. Last night, he more than touched me. And I wanted to touch him back. Through his slacks, I boldly curl my hand around him. My touch is light, but Livingston’s shoulders slump forward. He slams a palm on the wall behind me.
“Rainey—”
“Never planned, right?”
His mouth opens. His eyes are bright and alert.
“Miss Rainey?”
The two of us freeze at the sound of my maid. I made sure to lock my door, so no one is getting inside this room, but Livingston doesn’t know that. He begins to disentangle himself. I fiercely shake my head and hold on tightly. Livingston’s eyes widen. I place a finger to my lips.
“Say somethin’,” he whispers.
“Yes?” I finally say although it comes out squeaky. As though I haven’t had water in weeks.
There’s a pause. “Is everythin’ all right?”
Livingston dips his head. His lips connect with my neck. My eyes close as I feel his teeth and tongue against my skin and small pulls. If he doesn’t stop, there will be a mark. I softly moan.
“Ma’am?”
My eyes flash back open, but Livingston continues. I realize this is Livingston’s retaliation for me not allowing him to step back when he wanted to. If this is the punishment I get, I’ll never let go of him.
“I’m fine. Go!” I shout more loudly than I intend.
Livingston lifts his head, his hazel eyes dancing. My eyes narrow back at him. It’s his fault.
“Are you sure?” my unsuspecting maid asks.
“Yes.” I take a deep breath. “That will be all for tonight.”
Livingston and I wait, listening carefully for my maid’s footsteps to fade down the hall. Once we’re certain she’s gone, we move for one another at the same time. The space we carved out near the door is no longer safe. While our lips and tongues move against one another, Livingston guides us away. Within seconds, I feel the soft surface of my mattress beneath me and Livingston on top.
He sits up and hurriedly unbuttons his shirt. He takes it off and blindly throws it behind him. I take the moment to soak him in. His shoulders are broad, and his muscles seemed to be etched from stone. The black chest hair gathered around his defined upper body isn’t too thick and nearly disappears around his stomach. Above this belt, a black trail of hair begins and disappears beneath his slacks. I’m tempted to follow the path, but my eyes catch on the grooves above his hips and the lines they form. To my eyes, it almost appears to be the letter V. Slowly, my fingers trace the veins.
Livingston doesn’t move, but he’s as rigid as a block of ice. I know it’s taking all of his control to remain perfectly still.
Reluctantly, I pull my hands away from his perfect body and lean back on my elbows. “What should I do now?”
Livingston blinks languidly. His eyes rooted on my lips. “Hmm?”
“After this”—I gesture between us with a single finger—“what should I do?”
Livingston’s Adam’s apple bobs as he swallows. He looks away, his gaze settling on my nightgown. “Well, as you said, kisses should never be planned. And neither should anythin’ that comes after.”
My breath hitches in my throat as he leans forward and curls his hand around my neck. He dips down, and I willingly close my eyes. When my lips press against his, I’m more than comfortable at this point. I want more, more, more.
I’m essentially waiting for his next move. There’s a heat growing inside me that causes my pulse to race and my hands to shake. I know what I desire, but I don’t have the gumption to say it. I want him to touch my breasts. Last night, his touch was fleeting, barely lasting a second, but I felt it to my very soul. It made my body come alive, and I couldn’t help but crave more. His touch was turning out to be just like his kisses.
Livingston breathes deep through his nose as he guides my head to the side. My legs spread farther as I arch upward. That searing heat has now reached my fingertips and the tips of my toes. It’s searching for a way out.
Livingston groans deep. His hands move from my hips, and I nearly sigh with pleasure as they drift up my body. His nimble fingers pull on the ribbon keeping one sleeve together. Slowly it falls, and the material splits apart revealing only the upper slope of my breast. I feel Livingston’s lips trail down my jaw. He momentarily sucks on the inner slope of my neck, causing me to shift restlessly.