The confusion in her expression only deepened. “And?”

He frowned. “And that’s bad.”

“Oh, I’m sorry. I’m usually better at hiding the hurt until it goes away.”

Hiding the hurt? Jesus. Hadn’t her other lovers bothered to prepare her? Did she assume sex to be painful?

You didn’t prepare her, either, you selfish bastard.

He stared at this magnificent woman, a lusty and audacious creature, and cursed any man who hadn’t properly pleasured her, including himself. Clay meant to rectify that right now.

He slid his hands along her calves and drew down her stockings. Then he untied her drawers and slid them off. When he pushed her shift up her torso, she lifted off the mattress to help. At last, she was bare, spread out before him like a feast. Small, perfectly round breasts. Creamy skin. Slightly rounded stomach and flared hips. Her slit was glistening and swollen, begging for his mouth.

Good God, she was sheer perfection.

He didn’t deserve to fuck her. He was a black-hearted criminal who valued money more than morals. His hands had committed violence and theft for as long as he could remember. And now he had one of the city’s most desired debutantes in his bed, naked.

But he was no fool, either.

He might not deserve her, but he wasn’t going to stop—not without showing her true pleasure. The kind he knew her uptown boys were too selfish to give.

When he began sliding down the bed, she rose up on her elbows. “Wait, what are you doing?”

“Lie back, Florence. You’re about to receive another lesson.”

Another lesson?

She had no idea what Clay was talking about. Worse, she felt foolish. She’d whimpered from the pain of his invasion and caused him to stop.

Why hadn’t she bitten her lip or a pillow instead?

The pain never lasted more than a minute or two. Then the tingles returned and it would start to feel good again. If only she’d convinced Clay to keep going . . .

And what was he doing now? He was moving down the bed, his head between her spread thighs, his face directly there. Then she remembered the couple from the brothel—

His fingers touched her folds, separating them, just before he leaned in and . . . Oh, sweet heaven. He’d licked her. From the entrance to the tiny button on top. Her limbs twitched in surprised ecstasy as his groan reverberated throughout the entire room.

“God, your taste,” he muttered. “I’ll never get enough.”