“Ah, that’s why you think this painting will give women ideas.” She sighed as his mouth trailed her skin, her entire body heating and melting.

“Does it give you ideas?” He slid a hand over her ribs and up to her chest. A palm cupped her corseted breast and she arched into his touch. Curse the amount of clothing they both wore at the moment.

His shaft had begun to thicken under her backside. She rolled her hips once just to tease him. “I think it’s given you ideas.”

“Hmm, indeed. But then, around you, I never cease coming up with them.” He licked her throat then sank his teeth into the tender skin. “What do you think happens next in the scene?”

She gasped and gripped his forearms to steady herself as her lids fell closed. “They push the satyr in the water.”

“Come now. Is that the best you can do?” He dragged a fingertip along the edge of her bodice and her breasts grew heavy under the gentle touch. Arousal beat like a drum in every part of her, centered between her legs. He nipped her earlobe. “Are the nymphs left unsatisfied or does he have his wicked way with them?”

“All of them?”

“Perhaps not all of them.” Clay’s mouth hovered near her ear as his hands went to her skirts. He gathered the fabric in his fingers and pulled, revealing her legs. “Perhaps there was one blonde nymph who caught his eye, one with hazel eyes and no fear whatsoever.”

Oh, God. She sucked in air, nearly light-headed from the spell he was weaving. Hard to remember they were in a restaurant and not his bedroom. When her skirts came past her knees, she caught his hand. “What if the waiters return?”

“The doors are locked. No one is disturbing us. Relax, beautiful girl.” Air washed over her thighs as he pushed her skirts to her waist. “Now, where were we?”

“The blonde nymph,” she whispered.

“Yes, the brave nymph, unafraid of the satyr’s hideous looks and lusty ways. For some strange reason she seemed to prefer him to all others.” Reaching down, he placed her legs on the outside of his thighs. She was spread wide, her body displayed for him. “And she was so very beautiful that he felt unworthy of her.”

That penetrated the lust fogging her brain. “That’s ridiculous—”

“Hush,” he said, his hand gliding between her legs to find the part in her drawers. “This is my story.” Long fingers slid through the coarse hair on her mound. “Fuck, I can smell your arousal.” Growling, he sank his teeth into her throat once more and she moaned.

“You were saying?”

“I apologize. This blonde nymph was clever, much smarter than the satyr.” Blunt fingers traced her folds, never touching where she ached most, tormenting her. “She took him away from the other satyrs and nymphs, knowing the satyr couldn’t resist her.”