No one regretted that more than Sabrina. She hadn’t been able to see past her fear and anxiety to give this man—her husband—a chance. Moving toward him, she stopped just shy of touching him. “Is she hiding from you now?”
“No. I just wish I knew if she really wanted me.” He let out a low, harsh laugh. “Don’t we all want to be desired?”
“Is she desired?”
He let go of the post and faced her. She tried to imagine his gaze behind the blindfold. Did he keep his eyes closed, or was he staring at her, unseeing, through the fabric?
“Yes.” The word was barely audible. He cleared his throat and said it again, this time with more volume and weight. “You have to help me. I don’t know what to do. She suffers from some sort of affliction, I think, where she can’t face people without great effort. I wish I’d known this when we wed. I would have—” He exhaled and dropped his head forward to massage the back of his neck. “I would have been more considerate.”
“You might have guided her?” Sabrina asked, wishing they could go back and start over.
“I think so.” He exhaled. “It’s so hard to say. We both started with the absolute wrong expectations. But I am trying to set things right.” Turning, he sat on the edge of the bed, moving cautiously and using his hands to find his way. “I mean to seduce her, as you suggested. However, I don’t want to move too quickly. She is easily agitated.”
Sabrina’s chest expanded as she listened to him. Could this be her husband? She’d never estimated the depth of his thoughtfulness. “You seem to be such a generous person.”
As soon as the word generous left her lips, her mouth went dry with fear. She’d said that to him earlier, as his wife. Gathering her dressing gown in her fists, she squeezed, worried that he would put everything together and determine her identity.
Best not to let him think about it.
“Why did you want to see me tonight?”
He licked his lips. “I thought I might…tell you what I would do.”
“That is an excellent idea.” Her body was already hungry with need, just from the prospect of hearing him talk about what he would do to her. “What you would do to your wife if she were here?”
The intake of his breath, sharp and sudden, fanned the desire smoldering within her. “That would depend on what she would allow.”
“Pretend she would permit you anything. Would you kiss her? Caress her? Bring her release? Tell me.”
“I would feast upon her with my eyes. She’s the most beautiful woman I’ve ever known.”
Sabrina’s knees quaked under the aching sweetness of his words. “Tell me what you would do after you looked your fill of her. Imagine I am your wife.”
She saw him swallow, his throat working. “She’s nude,” he rasped. “I would kiss her—with my lips and tongue, exploring every part of her mouth.”
Heat pooled in Sabrina’s sex and built, like a fire taking hold from a flickering spark to an eager, hungry flame. “What then?”
“I would kiss along her neck,” he continued, his voice deeply sensual, captivating her with each word. “She smells like vanilla and apples, so fresh and sweet. The scent is most potent between her breasts, I think. I would bury my face there, cupping her flesh before I took one of her nipples into my mouth.”
In response, Sabrina’s nipples hardened to stiff points. She’d never experienced quite this sensation, this aching fullness, desperate for his touch. And all of it came from just words. “Then what would you do?”
“I would use my tongue and perhaps my teeth—gently, of course—and I would suckle her. Hard. Until she cried out. I have to determine what she likes. Will she like me to pinch her, to torment her until she can no longer bear it?”
Sabrina pressed her thighs together to ease the pulsing ache between them. “I think she would like that. Tell me what else.”
“I would stroke her sex and tease her until she was panting.”
Sabrina’s lips had parted, and she realized she was precariously close to doing exactly what he described.
Constantine went on, “When she could no longer bear the anticipation, I would press my finger into her.”
Unable to suffer another moment, she perched beside him on the bed, careful not to touch him. She pressed her hand between her legs and stroked herself through the silk of the dressing gown. “Please. Don’t stop. What else would you do?”
“I’d fill her with my fingers and make her come.”
Sabrina longed to open the gown and do what he said. Actually, she wanted him to do it, but he couldn’t. Not like this. She rubbed her clitoris, her hips moving gently.
“Are you…?” His unfinished question made her stop.
Filling her lungs, she moved her hand to her thigh. “Please, continue.”
“I would marvel at her naked beauty, at the honeyed curls guarding the sweetest part of her. And then I would taste, softly at first. When she relaxed—if she relaxed—I’d claim her. She is mine.” His breath caressed her ear. “You didn’t have to stop. I won’t touch you, but you can touch yourself.”
“Will you?” Sabrina managed to ask. The notion of them together on this bed, pleasuring themselves in concert, was incredibly erotic. She was quivering at the thought.
“I wasn’t going to, but I admit it’s difficult when I imagine my wife splayed nude before me.” He inhaled sharply. “It’s a dream, and I don’t know if it will ever come true.”
“It will.” Sabrina was so tempted to tell him who she was, to show him that his dream could come true. “I can’t imagine your wife resisting or not reacting—with complete abandon—to this seduction. You can do this.” She was desperate for him to try.
“I will…try what you suggest. It’s difficult to imagine talking to her when she blushes at the slightest provocation.”
Frustration rippled through Sabrina. She wasn’t as pathetic as that, was she? She’d been assertive and straightforward on several occasions since coming to town. Perhaps she needed to do more to invite him to talk to her, to reveal himself. To reveal his desires. “Think of her as a woman with wants and needs she hasn’t discovered yet. Show her what she has been missing. Don’t you think she will appreciate that?”
“When you put it like that, yes. I will start with talking to her and not necessarily just about this. We need to establish a level of comfort between us. An intimacy such that even friends share.”
His words made her want to swoon. “That is an excellent way to begin.”
“Would you mind going now?” he asked.
She stood from the bed, her knees weak from her unsatisfied desire. “Your wife is a lucky woman. I hope you show her how much soon.”
She hurried from the room, taking care to glance about the corridor before she closed the door behind her. Even more quickly, she rushed to the chamber with her clothing. She rang a bellpull, and someone knew to summon Evie, who would help her dress.
While she waited, she went back over his every word and nearly succumbed to touching herself. She would wait, however, in case he visited her bedchamber later. If he didn’t, she may become impatient and throw herself at him.