Velvet Haven

sighed and she heard something, like the creak of leather. “What are you wearing?” she asked.
    “My coat, which still smells of you.”
    “And?”
    “My pants.”
    She swallowed, licked her lips, trying to get up the nerve. “Did you . . . unzip them?”
    “Yes.”
    She closed her eyes, imagining it all. “Why?”
    “So I can touch myself while listening to your voice.”
    Oh, God, we are really going to do this!
    Mairi took a deep breath, wincing as she heard how breathless her voice sounded. “Are you touching yourself now?”
    “Not yet. Are you?”
    Her hand flew away from the tie securing her robe, as if he’d caught her red- handed. “No,” she answered, trying to sound as though she did this sort of thing all the time.
    “Ah,” he whispered, his voice dropping to a husky growl. “You want to be seduced first.”
    She squeezed her eyes shut, then her thighs. “Maybe.” She heard movement and asked, “What are you doing now?”
    “ Now I’m touching my cock.”
    Mairi almost choked, but maintained her dignity— barely .
    “I’m imagining it’s your hand. Soft, supple”—he made a little noise that sounded like a groan—“clever fingers circling the head, then teasing around the shaft. Then squeezing, just enough pressure to build up my desire, but not enough to spill into your hand.”
    She swallowed hard and allowed her fingers, which were trembling, to untie the sash of her robe. It parted and fell open, her nipples already puckered.
    “I’m wondering what you’ll think when you see my cock,” he whispered darkly, “when you feel it deep inside you.”
    He must be huge , she silently thought as her fingertips caressed the tip of her nipple. The rest of him certainly was.
    “I’d like to lie back and watch you take my cock in your mouth. I’d like to have my orgasm with your mouth, feel my climax crash over me, just like those waves pounding onto the beach.” Her fingertips stilled as she waited to hear more.
    “Would you do that, Mairi, take me in your mouth and make me come?”
    She’d not done that a lot, but for Bran, she would.
    “Mairi?”
    “Yes,” she admitted before she could stop herself. She heard his breath catch, the sound of the mattress creak, as if he were settling deeper into the bed.
    “Christ, I’m so close, just imagining you kneeling between my thighs, my cock filling your mouth, your hair spread over my body.”
    She heard his voice drop away; then it was followed by a husky demand. “Tell me what you’re imagining, Mairi.”
    She bit her lip and tugged at her nipple, her face flaming with excitement and nervousness. “You, how you must look touching yourself.”
    She imagined him spread out, his cock in his hand as he slowly moved his palm up and down. He would look devastatingly masculine. That much she knew.
    “Is that all?”
    “Yes,” she lied.
    “Then I haven’t done enough to seduce you, have I?”
    Oh, yes, she silently admitted, but he spoke, interrupting her thoughts.
    “I can imagine what you look like, your pink nipples hard—they are pink, aren’t they, Mairi?”
    She glanced down at her chest. “Yes.”
    “And your breasts are big, big enough to spill out of my hands. I’d want to take them into my mouth, knead them, caress them— fuck them .”
    She gasped, and felt her body spasm as her hand trailed down her belly.
    “Would you let me, Mairi?”
    “Yes,” she breathed as her fingertips grazed her pubic hair. “I . . . I would like that.”
    “And would you let me taste you, Mairi? Everywhere? Every patch of skin, every curve on your body?”
    “Yes,” she whispered, her voice hoarse with desire. “Do you like my curves?” she asked as she skimmed her hand along her body.
    “Yes.”
    “Which curve?” she asked, growing bold.
    “I couldn’t pick just one, Mairi. I’m greedy. I love your breasts and your ass. And your hair,” he murmured. “I love your hair—the length of it, the way it slides through my fingers. I’d like to grab handfuls of it and clutch it as I pin you to the bed, filling you full of me.”
    Gooseflesh covered her body and she shuddered as the image of Bran on top of her, pounding into her, took root.
    “I like your hair, too.” It made him look dangerous and sexy. A bad boy. Never had she been drawn to that sort of man, but one glimpse of Bran and she was a convert.
    “I know what you’re thinking, Mairi.”
    “What?”
    “You want to run your hands through my hair and