Free A Sip of You (The Epicurean Series) by Sorcha Grace Page A

I knew he could feel my telltale movements. I tried to focus on the massage and then I noticed the scent was familiar.
    “Is that oil the same as the perfume you gave me?”
    “It is,” he murmured in affirmation, his fingers like magic on my tired muscles. “I have a friend who’s a perfumer. I had it made for you. You’re the only one in the world who smells like this.”
    “I like it,” I groaned again as he started to work on a knot beneath one of my shoulder blades. I closed my eyes and allowed the sweet scents of vanilla and ginger lily to wash over me. Then I felt his strong hot hands stray downward to my ass and thighs. His fingers moved slowly, caressing me, kneading me. I felt heat rising, and I tingled everywhere in response. This was not relaxing—his touch was making me more and more tense. His thick fingers brushed closer and closer to my sex, and I held my breath. Just when he was right there and I should have felt him on the most intimate part of me, his hand slid away. I sighed into the pillow and tried to keep still.
    “Turn over,” he told me.
    I obeyed. Once I was face up and settled, he continued to massage me, though his strokes were less therapeutic and much more teasing. His hands slid up my legs, over my belly, until he lightly kneaded my breasts. His fingers brushed lightly over my nipples then skirted away. I couldn’t help the little grunts of pleasure that escaped from my lips every so often. Oh God, I wanted more. I wanted his mouth on me, his body pressing me into the bed, his touch urging me to pleasure. His caresses turned more erotic as his hands skimmed my warm flesh, pausing on my belly, then my hips, dipping lower and then moving away.
    “I know how turned on you are right now,” he said. “You’re already wet, aren’t you?”
    “Yes.” I reached for him, wanting to pull him to me, wanting to feel the pleasant weight of his body on top of mine.
    “Stay still,” he said, though his hands roved maddeningly over my sensitive flesh. “Keep your arms at your sides.”
    “William—”
    “Just relax. I want to awaken your senses. And I want to explore you in a new way. I want to know every facet of you.”
    That sounded promising. I wanted William to know every facet of me too, especially the parts that were already wet and swollen and waiting to be conquered.
    “Remember the night I returned from London?”
    “How could I forget?” I still flushed when I saw a grape and felt the icy chill on my hot clit as he pressed first the grape to my skin, then his hot, wet mouth.
    “Remember our dinner and champagne?”
    My body remembered even better than my mind. I writhed in anticipation of a repeat performance. The way William had fed me, had played on my senses—smell, taste, touch—aroused me like never before.
    “Remember I blindfolded you? And then I tied your hands?”
    I remembered how he’d used his grey and black striped tie that night, though it wasn’t the first thing that came to mind. Still, there was a part of me that had loved him restraining me. With my wrists tied above my head, not being able to touch him had been maddening at first, but then I’d come so hard the second his mouth was on me. That part of me ached for him now.
    I didn’t know how much more of this massage I could take. Need rushed through me, making my breath come short, and my body moved to make his hands go where I wanted them.
    “Would you like to do that again?”
    A flutter of nervousness raced up my spine, but it was nothing compared to the heat flooding my core, to the steady pulse of need I felt between my legs. “What did you have in mind?” I asked.
    “Something a bit different, but nothing you can’t handle.” His hands continued to stroke me, keeping me in a highly aroused state. “We can stop at any point. Anytime it’s too much.”
    I swallowed nervously. Part of me wanted to say no. I wanted more emotional commitment from William before we went further