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the focus of her entire being. “This is your clitoris.” He stroked slowly. “Pay close attention to what I do here, Mia—as this is something you can do on your own.”
    Mia’s brows crashed together. “Why would I wish to do this on my own if I have you?”
    He wasn’t going to argue with her, not in this moment. “As you well know, you must learn to self-modulate this experience—ultimately.” Slowly, he ran his fingertip down between her labia minora and was greeted by flood of wetness. He would not break her hymen—not tonight. The doctor in Exeter steered lascivious thoughts to something more clinical, like a vaginal exam. “Lift your knees, Mia.”

Chapter Six
    M IA PULLED HER KNEES UP . “Wider, love,” Exeter nudged them apart, dominating her gently, as was his way. “Let me see how beautiful you are.” His voice gravelly and low—nearly a whisper. He ran his fingers down the inside of her thighs. “Try to relax.”
    He was doing things, saying things she had dreamed about for months. She could only hope that the words and deeds came from his heart. Her eyelashes fluttered as she closed her eyes. “Take a deep breath and exhale.” He entered her most private place, and stroked. His fingers were slippery from the moisture her body had made for him—wetness he was using to arouse her. “You will feel the pleasure build quickly, now.” She was aware of a delicate scent in the air—musky and primal. For an instant, she was a wild creature in the woods, thrusting up to greet her lover.
    He stroked, adding pressure as he circled a place that made her cry, “Yes.” And, “More.” Her belly trembled and she thrust upward as he probed into her secret female places. Her hips grinding to the rhythm of his strokes. There was something clinical, yet tremendously exciting about Exeter’s detachment. A deliciously naughty connection moving back and forth between them. His stoicism had always intrigued her, for it was so perfectly Exeter. She could not help but wonder what this man might do, if and when he ever lost all control.
    He taught her something of the anatomy of pleasure with his touch. Using his thumb, he stroked lightly and very fast, which made her moan.
    He moved his finger lower and entered her woman’s passage, probing gently. “This ring of delicate membrane is your hymen. Lovely and pink. Virginal.”
    She strained at the ties, which had grown taut and somewhat painful. Exeter stopped and slipped his hands under her bottom. He lifted her up and nudged her closer to the headboard. “More comfortable?”
    “Much—thank you.”
    He paused to look at her, brows slightly furrowed, signature frown. “I would never wish for this to be any young lady’s initiation to sexual relations.”
    “Then make it better for me.” Mia looked at him. “I need you closer, Exeter.”
    He returned a nonplussed, dumbfounded blink and promptly ignored her request. He applied himself to her swollen place—the magical spot that made her gasp and moan and cry out for more. Momentarily, all her thoughts returned to pleasure. Her cheeks burned from humiliation. She was asking for something he did not wish to give—himself. There was intimacy in closeness—lovers’ arms and limbs entwined, lips touching, tongues swirling. No doubt Exeter worried that he would lose control, and that such abandon could spell disaster. Or worse, he might begin to feel something.
    As if he sensed her heartache, he lowered himself over her torso and locked into her gaze. Dark, gleaming hair, nearly shoulder length, fell forward. His eyes dropped to her mouth as he leaned closer. “You want me to kiss you.” His breath warmed her lips.
    She nodded. “Very much.”
    He brushed soft, pliant, kisses over her mouth and pressed her lips open. “Give me something deeper, love.” He used his tongue to swirl and mate with hers. A tight, urgent heat spread from her lips through her body to that place—the small spot that created