Page 38 of The Vampire's Guide to Wooing a Scholar
When she’d reached his door and knocked, it creaked open.
That was odd. She gently touched her fingers to the wood and pushed.
The room was dark, and there was a sound of shuffling sheets and moaning.
“Marcus?” she whispered.
No response.
She stepped forward, arms outstretched to keep from bumping into anything. As her eyes adjusted to the darkness, she made out a desk and a four-poster bed with the curtains drawn shut.
She should have turned and left, but the soft sound coming fromthe bed drew her forward, until she stood with one hand clasping the edge of a curtain. Then she peeked inside, and what she saw sent a throb of heat through her.
Marcus was lying on his back, wearing only a nightshirt and a strip of fabric around his eyes like a blindfold. Her gaze traveled down his wide shoulders and chest to his slim waist and his hand clasped tightly around his engorged cock. He lifted his hips as he worked himself. His face was flushed and there were beads of moisture on his forehead. She could not look away, even as her spectacles fogged.
“Marcus,” she finally whispered.
His body spasmed, and a milky substance spurted from his cock and dripped down his knuckles. He snatched the blindfold away, grabbed a sheet from where it was bunched by his hips, and flung it over his body.
“Winifred,” he said in a voice so husky, it made the skin of her arms erupt into gooseflesh. “Is something wrong?”
She clutched the edge of the curtain. It was impossible not to look at him. His body was lean and muscular, completely different from hers, with fine, black hair covering his shockingly pale abdomen.
“I… I…” She’d seen the nude male form in the books she’d kept hidden deep within her parents’ library, but those sketches were in black and white and entirely clinical. “I apologize. I shouldn’t have entered without permission.”
“You are always welcome.” He patted the mattress. “Sit.”
She shifted her skirts and carefully perched on the edge of his bed, fully aware that there were only a few layers of fabric between them. She covered her face with her hands. Admitting her desire was tremendously embarrassing.
He wrapped an arm around her shoulders. “Tell me.”
She leaned against him and said, all in a rush, “I want to continue where we left off last night.”
“Are you certain?”
“Yes.” She slid her hand to his bare thigh. “May I touch you?”
He whisked the sheet away faster than she’d thought possible.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Marcus’s cock twitchedas Winifred circled her index finger and thumb around it, the tips barely meeting. It was the gentlest of touches, a not-so-innocent exploration that made him throw back his head and moan.
“Youdolike that,” she said in a teasing voice that did not bode well for him.
“Minx,” he said before clasping her about the waist and placing her on his lap. It was both better and worse. Better because the most sensitive area of his body was tucked beneath her skirts. Worse, because it put the most tantalizing area ofherbody out of reach.
“Why did you stop me?” she asked.
Rather than answer, he kissed her until she’d relaxed in his grip and made soft whimpering sounds against his mouth. Only then did he draw back, turn her around, and untie the laces of her gown. Other men might have found the task tedious, but for him it was like unwrapping a present he’d anticipated opening for weeks. With each layer removed, more of her luscious curves were revealed. First her outer gown, which gave him a better look at her gently sloping shoulders. Then her corset cover and petticoats that sparked as he tugged them off and nearly unseated her spectacles, a small price to pay for the way she giggled and squirmed as the fabric lifted over her head. Finally, he tossed her crinoline aside, leaving her perched atop him, wearing only her underthings.
“You are so beautiful,” he said as he ran his handsdown her sides and cupped her lovely rear.
“Ah!” she flinched. “That’s cold.”
He chuckled. Her warm skin was scalding against his unnaturally cold flesh, but he welcomed the pain as evidence that he wasn’t dreaming.
She grasped the bottom edges of her corset and pressed them together until the metal clasps lifted. The stiffened fabric parted from her bodice, freeing her breasts. He took them in his hands and slid his thumbs over her erect nipples.
