This was wrong.
“I must leave,” he said hastily.
She raised her head. “Already? But... I thought. I thought perhaps you might want some pleasure as well.”
“I don’t need pleasuring.” And that was a damned lie.
“But you said there were multiple kinds of pleasure. I thought you meant... I thought you meantyours.”
“I was speaking of women. The way you can have so many different kinds of climaxes. More than I will show you tonight.”
Damn, why had he said that? It sounded like he was promising her more nights.
“Men are simple,” he said. “A bout of pumping and we’re done.”
“I’ve heard it called a pump handle. So one... pumps it?”
“One doesn’t do anything with it if one is named Mari. One goes to sleep. Alone.”
He’d told himself he’d pleasured her because he wanted to give her unequivocal proof of her beauty and attractiveness.
Really, it was because he’d wanted to be her firstsomething. If he couldn’t be her lover, he’d be the first man to bring her to bliss.
A selfish and dangerous urge.
“You’re feeling guilty again,” she said. “I can sense your thoughts going to that dark place,” she said. “You can touch me but I can’t touch you? Why?”
“Because it’s against my rules.”
She narrowed her eyes. “You know, Edgar, we females learn to fit ourselves around the obstacles in our lives. We’re expected to adapt and submit whenever anyone is louder or stronger than we are. Well I’m tired of it. I’m tired of pretending to be meek.”
“You’ve been pretending to be meek?” He smiled. “You haven’t done a very good job of it.”
“You want to kiss me,” she said simply. “Why deny it?”
He did want to kiss her. So badly it was rending his heart in two.
“Mari.” Edgar lifted her off his lap and onto the floor. “I do want to kiss you.”
“See? Now was that so difficult to admit?”
“I want to but I can’t. Because you’re my servant and I will never abuse my power and position.”
“You’re just like your gate, Edgar.” She crossed her arms over her chest. “Unyielding iron. You don’t know how to change, or bend.”
He’d already bent quite a few rules tonight. He needed to leave with at least a few shreds of control left.
He could be wrong, but they seemed to be arguing about her virtue. She wanted to throw it away because she was tired of being meek.
Though the idea made his blood sing and his heart pound, it could never happen. “I can’t be your rebellion, Mari. There’s too much at stake for you... and for me.”
“Why are you so stubborn?” She crossed her arms tighter over her chest. “Oh silly me. I met your mother this evening. I know exactly why you are the way you are.”
Andtherewas a topic to lower a man’s flag and cool his blood—his mother.
“You don’t want to talk about your mother,” she accused. “Why?”
Wordlessly, he found her dressing gown on the floor and handed it to her. She wrapped it tightly around her waist, cinching it with a bow.