pleasure.
He took her swollen clitoris between his lips and rolled his tongue across it. With each flick, each tweak, he felt her shake around him. David slipped his hands under her buttocks to cradle her and stop her from flailing. He glanced up and saw her head thrashing across the pillows, her hair spreading in masses of red waves across the white linen.
He teased her more urgently, his tongue licking the hard nub and coaxing her cries, louder and louder. He smiled with satisfaction as, at last, Winn began to shudder beneath him.
“D-David, what’s happening?” But the rest was lost as she arched up and gave a loud gasping cry. Seconds later, she collapsed against the pillow, thoroughly spent.
He quickly joined her. He covered them both with a thin sheet and held her in his arms. Her skin glowed in the candlelight. Her forehead was slightly damp and he smoothed away a tangle of curls. Gently he kissed her and held her heated body close.
“How do you feel, my love?” he whispered.
“Wonderful. Divine. I want to sleep but I don’t want to sleep.”
He nuzzled his nose into her soft, fragrant hair. He loved the way she smelled. Her perfume, her soap, her skin, her sex. Their sex. He purred into her ear. “Hmm… Aprés-lumiére .”
“Afterglow! So that’s what it means.”
“Do you like it?”
“Delightful,” she sighed. She turned to face him. “But what about you? Somehow, I think you did not experience the same thing.”
He gave her shoulder a reassuring squeeze. “Don’t worry about me. My pleasure will come soon enough. I wanted to give you a chance to savor your first climax.”
Winn propped her head up on her elbow and trailed a finger across his chest. “That really is very thoughtful of you.” She lifted the sheet off his hip. “Oh! Your penis has deflated.”
He chuckled at her discovery. “Just for a few moments. Not to worry. It shall return to fine working order momentarily. Are you thirsty?”
“Parched.”
He considered their choices for a moment. “The coffee is cold. The champagne is warm. But there is ice water on the tray.”
“Water is fine. Anything.”
He poured them each a glass. He held the goblet to her lips while she drank. When she was done, he set their glasses back on the tray. He glanced at the clock over the cold fireplace mantle, then lit two more candles and brought them to the nightstand.
“What are you doing?”
“I meant to have you home by two and it has just turned midnight. But your tutoring this evening remains unfinished.”
At her puzzled expression, he picked up the book from the nightstand. “I want you to read to me.”
Chapter Seven
“Read to you?” she repeated. Winn looked down at the book on her lap. “What would you like to hear?”
David climbed in beside her. “Anything. My French is somewhat rusty so I am only picking out every third word. The author’s scrawl is less than grammar school acceptable.”
Winn fingered the cover, remembering her only meeting with Louise Desjardins. “She was quite beautiful. Almost frail, if I recall correctly. She wore a black-and-white striped gown and a huge hat of ostrich feathers dyed the same color. I thought she was the most elegant person I’d ever met. She sent me a gift on my birthday every year until she died.”
“What kind of gifts?” David asked.
“Party frocks, beautiful frilly things with yards of lace and stiff crinolines in pastel shades of lavender, blue and pink. And boxes of chocolates. And a cameo. She was very generous.”
“Indeed. Her ultimate gift proved that. She must have adored you.”
“Yes, Father says it’s because she didn’t have any children of her own.” She turned to him and grinned. “Of course, that’s before I knew what she did for a living.”
“Yes, I can see where children would be an unwanted commodity in her business.”
Winn wrinkled her nose at the word.
“Well, she must have been very good at her business. From what
He took her swollen clitoris between his lips and rolled his tongue across it. With each flick, each tweak, he felt her shake around him. David slipped his hands under her buttocks to cradle her and stop her from flailing. He glanced up and saw her head thrashing across the pillows, her hair spreading in masses of red waves across the white linen.
He teased her more urgently, his tongue licking the hard nub and coaxing her cries, louder and louder. He smiled with satisfaction as, at last, Winn began to shudder beneath him.
“D-David, what’s happening?” But the rest was lost as she arched up and gave a loud gasping cry. Seconds later, she collapsed against the pillow, thoroughly spent.
He quickly joined her. He covered them both with a thin sheet and held her in his arms. Her skin glowed in the candlelight. Her forehead was slightly damp and he smoothed away a tangle of curls. Gently he kissed her and held her heated body close.
“How do you feel, my love?” he whispered.
“Wonderful. Divine. I want to sleep but I don’t want to sleep.”
He nuzzled his nose into her soft, fragrant hair. He loved the way she smelled. Her perfume, her soap, her skin, her sex. Their sex. He purred into her ear. “Hmm… Aprés-lumiére .”
“Afterglow! So that’s what it means.”
“Do you like it?”
“Delightful,” she sighed. She turned to face him. “But what about you? Somehow, I think you did not experience the same thing.”
He gave her shoulder a reassuring squeeze. “Don’t worry about me. My pleasure will come soon enough. I wanted to give you a chance to savor your first climax.”
Winn propped her head up on her elbow and trailed a finger across his chest. “That really is very thoughtful of you.” She lifted the sheet off his hip. “Oh! Your penis has deflated.”
He chuckled at her discovery. “Just for a few moments. Not to worry. It shall return to fine working order momentarily. Are you thirsty?”
“Parched.”
He considered their choices for a moment. “The coffee is cold. The champagne is warm. But there is ice water on the tray.”
“Water is fine. Anything.”
He poured them each a glass. He held the goblet to her lips while she drank. When she was done, he set their glasses back on the tray. He glanced at the clock over the cold fireplace mantle, then lit two more candles and brought them to the nightstand.
“What are you doing?”
“I meant to have you home by two and it has just turned midnight. But your tutoring this evening remains unfinished.”
At her puzzled expression, he picked up the book from the nightstand. “I want you to read to me.”
Chapter Seven
“Read to you?” she repeated. Winn looked down at the book on her lap. “What would you like to hear?”
David climbed in beside her. “Anything. My French is somewhat rusty so I am only picking out every third word. The author’s scrawl is less than grammar school acceptable.”
Winn fingered the cover, remembering her only meeting with Louise Desjardins. “She was quite beautiful. Almost frail, if I recall correctly. She wore a black-and-white striped gown and a huge hat of ostrich feathers dyed the same color. I thought she was the most elegant person I’d ever met. She sent me a gift on my birthday every year until she died.”
“What kind of gifts?” David asked.
“Party frocks, beautiful frilly things with yards of lace and stiff crinolines in pastel shades of lavender, blue and pink. And boxes of chocolates. And a cameo. She was very generous.”
“Indeed. Her ultimate gift proved that. She must have adored you.”
“Yes, Father says it’s because she didn’t have any children of her own.” She turned to him and grinned. “Of course, that’s before I knew what she did for a living.”
“Yes, I can see where children would be an unwanted commodity in her business.”
Winn wrinkled her nose at the word.
“Well, she must have been very good at her business. From what
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