Page 144 of A Very Bellamy Christmas

Chapter 29

Lord Shelton laughed at Stacia’s question but immediately said, “Of course.”

He began to get up.

“I will fetch it,” Stacia said. She slipped from the bed and felt around until she located her chemise and slipped it over her head before picking her way back to the seating area, searching until she found his neckcloth where he’d tossed it, and then hurried back to the bed and dropped the linen strip over the spot where his torso should be. “Here it is.”

“Shall I—”

“Yes. You put it on.” She threw the words over her shoulder while heading back to the fireplace. By the time she located the bowl of spills and lighted two of the candles a quick glance in the direction of the bed showed that he’d already tied on the blindfold and was lying on his back.

Her gaze jumped immediately to where his hand languidly moved up and down.

She sucked in a breath, her heart thundering at the shockingly erotic sight.

His head rolled toward her when she approached the bed, his lips wearing the lazy, sensual smile she’d seen in dozens of ballrooms as he’d charmed hundreds of women—a look that had filled her with so much yearning that she could still feel it.

“Well?” he asked.

“Well?” she echoed.

“Shall I pleasure myself, or do you want to do it for me?”

“Me?”

He laughed and she marveled as the muscles in his chest and belly flexed. He used the hand not stroking himself to caress his belly, his broad palm sliding slowly up the ridged muscle to the slab of his breast. He gave a low purr of pleasure when he dragged his fingers over an erect nipple.

Stacia watched all of it in open-mouthed wonder.

“Are you still there?” he asked, amusement coloring his husky voice.

She nodded dumbly, recalled he could not see her and said, “Yes. You are—” She bit her tongue before the word magnificent slipped out.

“Without shame?” he suggested, his grin sinful.

“Yes,” she said, and then gave a choked laugh.

He laughed with her, his hands not ceasing their mesmerizing motions.

Stacia wanted to touch him so badly her clenched hands ached with the effort of not reaching for him. But she was, at the end of the day, a coward. “I w-will watch.” She was so embarrassed she could hardly force the words out.

If he was disappointed, he gave no sign of it, merely nodding and leaving her to enjoy the sight of his body and what he was doing to it.

Stacia had never seen a penis in full, er, bloom. It was far larger than one was given to believe based on the classical statues. The rest of him, however, was as beautiful as any marble depiction of masculinity she had ever seen. Of course none of the statues had borne scars on their perfectly chiseled torsos, but that only made him more beautiful in her opinion.

“Do you like watching me, Stacia?”

“Yes.” She pulled her rapt gaze from his stroking fist and moved slowly up the artistry of his abdomen and chest, fascinated to note that he was now sheened in perspiration. His face was a mask of raw sensuality, his full, shapely lips slack.

“You were magnificent earlier—giving your pleasure up to me so perfectly—it is a miracle I did not humiliate myself and spend all over myself.” He smiled faintly. “And yet that is exactly what I am about to do in any case.” His breathing grew rougher and his strokes quickened. “Touch me while I come for you, Stacia.”

Her hand was moving before the request had left his mouth. She wished she were close enough to claim his lips, but the way he was shaking told her he was about to experience what she had enjoyed—four times today—and so she slid a hand up his thigh, not close enough to interrupt his motions, but close enough to lightly brush the shadowed bulge between his splayed thighs.

It was happening too quickly—it would all be over too fast.

“Not yet.” Stacia spoke the words without realizing it.

His hand instantly stopped. “No?” he asked in a strained voice.