Free Peeping Tom by Shelley Munro Page B

of the conversation?”
    How could she explain her sex life had consisted of degradation and embarrassment? She’d never known what Bernard would do next, what extraordinary lengths he would go to so he could climax. He’d blamed her. “My husband was into…ah, extreme stuff. It wasn’t pretty or enjoyable.”
    Felix sat up and took her hands in his. “I would never do anything to hurt you. When we are together, if there’s anything that bothers you or makes you feel uncomfortable, all you need to do is tell me to stop.” He kissed the tender skin on her inner wrist, his green eyes glowing with honesty. “But we can still explore our sexuality together. We’ll have lots of fun.”
    “Yes,” Tomasine breathed.
    “Stand up for me. I’d like to undress you. You know I rather liked you in the towel. Easy access. Stunning view.”
    “But your brother was looking,” Tomasine protested.
    Felix scowled. “He’s male, but he won’t look in future. I hope his mate turns up soon.”
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    “His mate?”
    Felix’s eyes narrowed in a sign of impatience. “I don’t want to talk about Leo. We don’t have much time. We should make the most of it. Stand up for me, sweetheart.”
    Tomasine stood, her belly quivering with sudden nerves. She stared at him and he smiled, his face losing its fierceness as soon as his lips slanted up in a grin.
    “Remember, all you need to do is tell me to stop and I will.”
    Somehow, Tomasine didn’t think she’d ever want him to stop. Her stomach sucked in at the thought, her imagination dancing ahead. She visualized the slow slide of their bodies together, the sound of flesh slapping against flesh. The sensation of his mouth sliding across her skin and the feel of his silken shaft forging into her moist pussy. Her breathing was unsteady when she studied him, his dark good looks, glittering green eyes and wind-rustled hair. He wasn’t as pretty as his brother Leo. The angles of his face were harsh and sometimes stern, but she’d seen the kindness in him, experienced it. She could hardly believe this was happening, that he was looking at her as if he wanted to eat her up when only a week earlier he’d avoided her like the rest of the residents of Middlemarch. Like the black plague. A primitive throb pumped through her veins while she studied him, desire curling through her. He wanted her— Tomasine Brooks. A fine tremor took her as he reached out, intending to take this to a more personal level.
    First, he cupped her face with his hands. He kissed her eyelids and her cheeks, slowly working his way toward her mouth. Some of his kisses were soft, like the flit of a butterfly, while others were slower, lingering and made her pulse jump to a crazy beat. Tomasine pursed her lips ready for his kiss but he chuckled and bypassed her mouth. He nibbled her chin before moving lower to kiss her neck. A sigh whispered from Tomasine. She was sure he’d remedy the neglect soon. Felix sucked lightly on the side of her neck and the sensation writhed through her like an out-of-control wildfire. Tomasine shifted her weight, the move abrading her nipples against the cups of her cotton bra. Hurry. Her heart pounded an urgent beat.
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    She wished he’d hurry.
    Almost as if he could read her impatience, he reached for the hem of her T-shirt and drew it upward. Their gazes met and held. Tomasine’s heart seemed to stop under his intense regard. The tips of her breasts tingled and she swallowed when a raft of sudden nerves hit her.
    Was she doing the right thing?
    Normally she followed her instincts. They were shouting—no, screaming—at her to grab this man and keep him, to trust him because he was her future. But her mind wasn’t so sure.
    “Stop frowning,” Felix whispered, his warm breath tickling her ear and setting off a series of aftershocks. He tugged her T-shirt up higher to bare her stomach. Felix pressed a moist kiss to the tender skin just below her breasts.