Page 64 of Four Promises to Love

“You didn’t think I was done, did you?”

He refrained from rolling his eyes. “You seemed rather relaxed.”

“Thanks to you. That was lovely, and now it’s your turn. Off with your clothes, sir.”

She slid off his lap as she issued the cheeky order. Not one to look a gift horse in the mouth, he began undressing while she lounged like an indolent goddess on the sofa. He was far from prudish, but he felt his face heat as she eyed him like he was some decadent treat.

“Are you blushing?” She sounded delighted.

“No.”

He finished unbuttoning his shirt, balled it up, and tossed it at her.

She caught it—of course she did—and said, “Your trousers next.”

Christ, this woman. Her cheerful assertiveness strained the front of his trousers. It was no easy task to work the buttons free; the instant they gave, his cock sprang free.

He waved at his bobbing member. “Satisfied?”

“Not yet.”

The way she wetted her lips sent heat blazing through his veins. Then she reached out, gripping him by the cock. He hissed out a breath as she ran her fist along his length.

“But I intend to be,” she said.

“You enjoy driving me mad, don’t you?” Owen said raggedly.

You have no idea.

“Perhaps a little,” she said coyly.

She was ready to be playful. His tenderness as he’d kissed her scars had unraveled her. It made her shaky to think about it, so she focused instead on the matter at hand—literally. Between her palms, his cock was a fleshy spear, hard and long and ready for action. Her fingers barely fit around his throbbing maleness. As she pumped him slowly from base to tip, he made a sound low in his throat.

“More than a little, I think.” He watched her stroke his thick, veined length with avid eyes. “I think it arouses you to have such power over me.”

He was ridiculously attractive, this lord of hers, and not only physically. He understood her. Unlike Jimmy, he wasn’t intimidated by her boldness—and seemed to like it.

“It is rather stimulating,” she said.

“What a coincidence.” His chest heaved. “So is what you’re doing.”

Lips curving, she gave his bulging head another squeeze. She pumped him harder, faster, and he burgeoned further in her clasp. Recalling his prior lesson, she stroked with one hand, using the other to cup his stones. Playing with those velvety weights felt naughty indeed. He grunted, and a drop of liquid welled upon his tip.

She eyed that quivering bead, recalling the few times she’d given in to Jimmy’s demands and serviced him orally. It had felt like a chore, and she hadn’t enjoyed it particularly. But the idea of pleasuring Owen this way inflamed her.

Leaning over, she licked his dome, purring at his salty taste.

“Bloody hell, Finn,” he groaned.

His reaction was clearly one of approval for another droplet replaced the first. Gripping his shaft, she drew her tongue over the wide head, exploring the new terrain. He bit out more curses.

She peered up at him. “Do you like it this way?”

“Does a drowning man cling to a plank?”

Smiling, she rewarded him with another kiss.

“However…”