Page 49 of Dare to be Wicked

“Tell me to stop and I will,” he promised, praying she’d not tell him to, as he reached beneath the acres of fabric.

But beneath the dress were too many layers, layers and layers with lacy edges fluttering as he tried to find his way in and was foiled, each time discovering a new level of torment as her skin was kept from him. The provoking fabric rustled as he tossed each petticoat aside, his hands frantic to find a path beneath them.

“God above, Lottie, what manner of devil’s device is this?” he demanded, laughing in frustration as he tried in vain to bury beneath them. “Are you trying to drive me out of my mind?”

“It’s the fashion,” she said with an impatient sigh. “It’s such a nuisance too, they’re so heavy and difficult to walk in, let alone dance and… Oh!”

Finally he made it, and felt a surge of victory as great as if he’d climbed a blasted mountain range. He was certainly just as breathless. How could he not be, though, as his hands encountered warm, slender limbs as satiny as the finest silk? His hands lingered on the delicate skin behind her knees, trailing his fingers back and forth. Lottie shivered.

“I’ve longed to touch you,” he said, struggling to speak, for his breath was coming so fast. “The image of you laid out on the daybed is etched on my mind. I see it constantly, it’s a torment to me, to have you so close and—”

He didn’t get another word out. Lottie had clearly decided he’d said enough. She bent her head and pressed her mouth against his and Cassius sighed. He gave himself over to her, allowing her to take the lead, as she was wont to do. She kissed him, tentatively at first and then with growing confidence. Their tongues tangled, sliding and playing together, and all the while Cassius allowed his fingers to roam up and down the backs of her thighs, each time venturing a little higher. Her breath caught as his palms slid over her impeccable bottom and she drew back, staring at him.

“This is certainly perfect,” he said with a grin, squeezing an agreeably plump handful as she giggled and then rearranged her face, looking down with a haughty expression.

“I’m so glad you approve,” she muttered tartly, though laughter danced in her eyes.

“I don’t approve,” he said with a tut, making her narrow her eyes at him as he trailed one finger down the crease of her bottom.

She shivered.

“Surely a goddess seeks more than mere approval? You require worshiping at the very least. When we are married, I shall lavish such attention on this exquisite piece of art that you shall have no doubts of my devotion.”

“Married?” she repeated, a little breathless.

“Of course, married,” he replied gazing up at her. “You cannot have believed I would dally with you for sport? I love you, and so we must be married. Well, that is… if you’ll have me?”

She stared down at him, her eyes very bright. “Yes! Yes, please. Of course, I will, but….”

“But?” he repeated indignantly. “There’s never a but!”

“Well, there is this time.” She tsked and pressed a finger to his lips to silence him. “But… you must help me accomplish my dare first.”

He relaxed, delighted by her. “Ah, yes. Something wicked.”

“Yes,” she breathed rather than spoke the word and Cassius moved, finding her hips beneath the layers and layers and tumbling her sideways onto her back. She squealed and he hushed her as he lay down alongside her. She sniggered, covering her mouth with her hand.

“You are quite dreadful,” he said, shaking his head as his hand slid up, up, over her knee, over her satiny skin.

“Yes.”

“Don’t ever stop being dreadful,” he murmured, as his palm found the tender skin of her inner thigh, impossibly soft.

“I won’t.”

“Promise?”

“Promise,” she said, and then gasped as his fingers trailed through the little triangle of curls that he knew to be a glorious shade of gold.

“Oh,” she said as his delicate touch explored, moving lower, seeking the place he had longed for. “Oh, Cassius, that… that is wicked.”

He chuckled, burying his face against her neck and laughing for the pure joy of it, of her, intoxicated by her scent, by the feel of her, by the sheer brilliance of being in her presence.

His fingers caressed, seeking the place that was the centre of her pleasure, and teased her gently, slowly, circling and sliding deeper, dipping into the heated core of her as he muffled a groan of wanting. He imagined the night when he could do more than this, take more than this, as he pleasured her, revelling in the soft sounds she made until he had to make himself stop painting such wanton pictures in his mind before he came undone. Her breathing hitched and she grasped at him, her hips canting towards his touch, seeking more as she chased the sensation. Cassius watched her, overwhelmed with love, with desire, humbled by her trust in him, knowing he was a wretched devil for taking this before they were even engaged, and all the world knew of his intentions. Yet she had asked, and he could deny her nothing, least of all something he wanted so desperately too.

She cried out, her body arching and trembling and he hushed her, soothed her, easing her through and helping her find every last tremor of pleasure until at last she was still. She gazed up at him, her expression soft and hazy and she gave a sigh, her warm breath fluttering over him.

“That was… splendid,” she said, a satisfied smile curving over her delicious mouth.