He dipped once more, his eyes closed, and his tongue swiped over her flesh. The feeling was indescribable. Unlike anything she’d imagined, with a toe-curling rush of sparks centered in that spot. She held her breath, silently begging him to do it again. When he did, her arms gave out on her and she dropped back on the bed, her body ready and willing for whatever he had in mind.

Apparently, he had more of the same in mind. His tongue licked and swirled, his mouth sucking and kissing. She panted and clutched the coverlet, trying to remain grounded as the earth shifted beneath her. He left no part of her unexplored, as thorough as when she’d seen him examine the night’s books. The hard bundle of nerves atop her folds received the most attention, and each swipe and suck caused her insides to wind tighter. Perspiration dotted her forehead. Her legs started shaking, her muscles twitching. The pleasure built as she climbed higher. He seemed to realize this because he sped up, drawing her clitoris between his lips, nursing on it, until her back bowed.

Just when she thought she couldn’t take any more, he pushed a finger inside her. She cried out, the delicious fullness pushing her over the edge. White-hot pulses of pure bliss obliterated all thought and reason. She could only lie there and let the feeling envelop her. It went on and on, wave after wave, until she was limp. Utterly spent.

As she floated back to herself, she marveled over what had just happened. It had been more intense than any orgasm she’d given herself to date. Perhaps she wasn’t trying hard enough? Or was Clay just that talented?

A lesson, indeed.

He nuzzled her entrance gently, still tasting her. “Did you enjoy that?”

“You knew I would.”

A rumble of pure male satisfaction sounded in his throat. “It’s a crying shame that no one’s taken the time to properly love this cunt.”

She’d never heard the word spoken aloud, had only read it in books she hid under her bed, and she could feel her skin heating. Everything about him aroused her, even the way he talked. He was so real and raw, unpolished steel in a world full of fake gilding.

Another finger joined the one already inside her, stretching her farther. She sucked in a breath. Not from pain, but from the heavenly drag against her sensitive tissues. She was so wet, her moisture coating his fingers as he pumped them in and out of her. Each movement felt better than the last, until her hips were rising up to meet his hand.

“It shouldn’t hurt,” he murmured and kissed her thigh. “Not even for a few seconds. It should only feel good.”