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could not even describe the sensations his tongue sent shimmering through her.
    Her thighs clenched and she willed them back to softness. She must not betray her hand, betray her desire, too quickly.
    The vibration of his chuckle surged through her. He was not fooled.
    He nipped at the tender flesh of her inner thigh, causing her to shiver.
    Grabbing his hair, she pulled his head up until their eyes met. His glowed black like obsidian, a world of color shimmering in darkness. “That was not my direction. You may switch knees now. Lick the other, while you stroke the first.”
    He drew in a great breath, his chest heaving—and then letting it out slowly, he bent his head, his tongue snaking into the crevasse behind her knee.
    God. Oh God. That was good. So good.
    For a moment she did nothing but revel in the sensation. He was a very talented man. He worked back and forth with his tongue on one side, his fingers on the other, rubbing sensually, each second sending her body higher. It was all she could do not to strain against him.
    “You may move higher—but slowly,” she whispered.

Chapter 4
    Ruby watched as Derek’s mouth moved but scant inches, each fraction of distance growing more and more sensitive. His hand moved up her other leg with greater speed, but always moving back again. The calluses of his work-roughened hands abrading her tender skin and shooting sensation straight to her clit.
    Oh, she was alive with sensation.
    Her breaths grew shallow, each intake of air barely filling the top of her lungs.
    It was almost too much to bear. Could one grow insane from pleasure?
    And the image of him, dark curls against her tender skin, his whole focus on her, it was enough to fill her with want, even without the sensations of his touch.
    She had to slow this down. She would come before he even reached her cunny. “Stop.”
    He gave her one more long, wet lick and then pulled back.
    She fought to find her voice. “Take off your shirt; let me see you.”
    He smiled, understanding her far too well, but as in each previous occasion, obediently he did as she directed, standing and pulling off the white linen.
    Magnificent. It was a word she always thought of in context with him, and as he bared his hard, muscled chest, she was once again almost overcome by his harsh beauty. The man was made of power, his every line hard and lean and well muscled. He looked like he might pound rocks for a living—or pull a plow without use of horse or oxen. There was nothing weak about him, no hint of fat or softness.
    She curled her fingers by her sides to keep from stroking him; perhaps this had not been the best idea. She’d wanted to pretend to control the strong man, if only for a few moments, but looking at all that bare flesh, she was ready to spread herself across the bed and just scream, “Take me.” She smothered a giggle at the thought. Madame Rouge would never act like that.
    And she was Madame Rouge.
    “Back on your knees.” Her mouth watered as she watched the rippling muscles play across his back in the candlelight.
    He raised his head and stared straight at her, and then with a curt nod he sank back between her legs, his lips taking their spot halfway up her right thigh, his knuckles skimming up her left. Almost against her will, she reached forward and placed a hand lightly on each firm shoulder. A small stroke would not change the game. His skin was like heavy satin beneath her touch.
    His lips moved, distracting her, his tongue lapping at her sensitive flesh. She bit down on her lower lip, the sting of pain keeping her distracted. Control. She must keep control.
    His strong fingers kneaded her flesh, one hand on each thigh now as he moved closer to his goal. The calluses on his palms grated against her skin, delicious tickles speeding through her, ending at that ever-tightening spot between her legs, that increasingly eager spot.
    Her fingers dug into his shoulders and she forced them to relax.
    “I can smell