Chapter 12: The Gap

That night Etienne locked his bedroom door behind us and turned the key.

"Delphine has stopped knocking," he said. "I don't intend to be interrupted."

I stood in the middle of his room in my luncheon dress, still shaking from the ballroom.

He crossed to me, slowly this time, and took my chin in his hand.

"You were brave today."

"I was scared."

"You were both. Take off the dress."

It was not a request, and I found I did not want it to be one.

I reached behind me and drew down the zipper.

The dress slid to my feet.

He looked at me for a long moment, in the lamplight, and his eyes darkened.

"Turn around. Put your hands on the bedpost."

I turned.

The wood was cool under my palms.

I heard him cross the carpet and heard the soft sound of his belt coming free.

He stepped up behind me, close enough that I felt the heat of him but not his skin.

"You don't move," he said at my ear. "Not your hands. Not your hips. Not until I say."

"And if I do?"

"Then I stop."

He ran his palm down my spine, slowly, and unhooked my bra with two fingers.

His mouth found the side of my neck, and then the dip of my shoulder.

He kissed down my back, one vertebra at a time, and I felt the skin prickle and tighten wherever his breath touched.

My knuckles were white on the bedpost.

He slid my underwear down my thighs and tapped each ankle until I stepped out of it.

Then his hands closed on my hips and pulled them back, and I felt the blunt, hot head of his cock press against me.

"Etienne."

"Not yet."

He did not push in.

He slid himself through the wet between my legs, back and forth, over my clit, until I whimpered.

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