Page 133 of In Violent Waves

“Are you asking me to show you howthat scenewould play out?”

She nodded, biting her lip again.

“And this isn’t something you’ve ever done before?” His eyebrow arched high on his forehead.

“Not that particular thing, no,” she lied. “If you don’t want to, it’s fine. I assumed with the kiss that—” She couldn’t believe she had actually asked him. But the kiss they shared had been so natural—so perfect.

“I’ll do it,” he blurted out. “But the moment it’s too much or you want me to stop, you say so immediately. Do you understand?”

Lyra nodded with enthusiasm, but felt an explosion of butterflies in her stomach twining with the heat that was already there.

Wilder inhaled and ran his fingers through his hair.

“Are you sure you want it to be me?” She watched as his throat bobbed with a swallow.

Lyra let her gaze roam over him. From his thick, muscular thighs to the broad expanse of his chest to his blue eyes that were clouding with arousal.

“Yes. I’m assuming you have experience that would be beneficial.”

He chuckled, and it was so deliciously dark that Lyra squeezed her legs together.

“I do. Do you not?”

Lyra grimaced. “I do. Just not with this,” she lied again.

Wilder shifted in his seat. Leaning forward, he rested a large hand on her knee and gave it the slightest amount of pressure to get her to spread her legs.

He sank to his knees before her and gripped the hem of her gown.

Lyra leaned back against the seat and spread her legs farther to give him room. Her pulse pounded in her throat, and she found it difficult to breathe normally.

Wilder lifted her gown with a forced slowness.

“You tell me the moment you want me to stop.” He stared as he revealed more and more of her bare skin.

Lyra nodded, her breath caught in her throat when he pushed her gown up to her waist. There was only a thin layer of fabric between her sex and him.

Wilder hooked his thumbs beneath her undergarment, and Lyra lifted her hips. She closed her eyes as he slid it over her thighs and down her calves.

“Open your eyes,” he ordered.

She peeled her eyes open.

“I’m scared,” she whispered.

Wilder stopped at once. “We don’t have to do this.”

“I want to,” she breathed.

He nodded and grazed a hand up her calf and then over her thigh.

She was bared to him, splayed open like the character in her book.

Wilder brushed his thumb over the top of her entrance, and her hips bucked involuntarily. A gasp slipped through her clenched teeth.

“Easy,” he murmured. “That was the ‘bundle of nerves’ in that scene. Did you feel it?”

Lyra nodded, and her head thudded against the wall. Her breath came out in uneven staccato bursts.