Naughty Bits 2 Read Online Free PDF

mouth as he swoops down to kiss my very breath.
    With his tongue still in my mouth, he unfastens my hands and elbows, then, with a swift, sharp jerk that snaps the lace like a cobweb, he wrenches the thong from between my legs and replaces it with his fingertips. His gentle fingertips that love me to a swift, sweet, pain-stealing orgasm.
    I moan into his kiss, pleasure sluicing through my loins, rising through my body and my soul and soothing my aching heart. He touches me so tenderly, coaxing me to the peak again and again. As I twist beneath his touch, I realize, distantly, that I’m clinging on to him for the dearest life, yanking at his dark shirt and digging my nails into his back, perhaps inflicting a tiny percentage of the pain I’ve just experienced.
    Finally, we both lapse into silence and stillness. He holds me. I hold him. We’re two breathless survivors of a whirlwind.
    How long we sit like this, I have no real idea. My entire world is his strength, his scent, his sure, steady breathing and the beat of his heart in his chest where I huddle against it. After a while, though, another physical factor begins to impress itself on me.
    I’m on the marquess’s lap, and in the cradle of that lap there’s the hard knot of an erection.
    I start to feel hot again. My cheeks flush with shame at my own selfishness. This spanking was something he wanted to do, but it was really as much my idea as his…and I’ve had the pleasure of it—several times—and he’s had nothing in the way of sexual release.
    He’s been stiff all through this strange interlude and I’ve made not the slightest offer to do anything about that. Even though he’s seen to my satisfaction…repeatedly!
    I wonder how to broach the subject. He seems to be quite content for the moment just to hold me, despite the fact that he must be in a fair degree of discomfort. Something that’s dramatically illustrated when I shift my position slightly and he draws a swift, sharp breath.
    â€œUm…Your Lordship…er…shouldn’t we do something about that?”
    Not exactly eloquent, but I drive my point home by moving again, cautiously rubbing my sore bottom against the solid bulge that’s stretching his jeans.
    If I’ve been expecting a positive response and an enthusiastic segue into the next delicious stage of the proceedings, I’m completely wrong. He remains silent, perfectly silent, for several long moments, and when he does utter a sound it’s a soft, regretful sigh.
    â€œThat’s a sweet offer, my lovely Rose, and I’m very tempted.” I gaze into his face and suddenly discover that he looks quite sad. “But perhaps it’s not the best idea…not really.”
    â€œWhy not?” I demand, my submissive role suddenly a thing of the past. His eyes widen, and for a moment I wonder whether I should apologize and grovel a bit, but then he smiles and shrugs, the movement of his shoulders transmitting itself to me more through his erection than anything else.
    â€œI…” He looks away, distant for a few seconds, and then returns his gaze to me. He looks rather sad, almost wistful, andthen he smiles again. “I prefer to just touch and play and give pleasure, rather than receive it.”
    What?
    â€œBut…um…don’t you need to come?”
    He laughs. “Of course I do. But I’ll deal with myself later, Rose.” He tips his head back, as if looking heavenward for inspiration, his night-black hair sliding away from his face with the movement. “It’s hard to explain, but basically, if I get too intimate, I want too much…and I’m not really a good prospect for relationships.” A heavy sigh lifts his chest. “I’m a widower, but I wasn’t much good as a husband. Or even a boyfriend. Too wild…too selfish…. I’ve settled down a lot now, of course—” he makes a vague