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The Way of Jayne, Part 7

His darkened steel eyes caught and held her own jade green in locked question and answer. His query got a sure reply when she closed her eyes and exhaled strongly while moving into him just enough to tell him what he needed to know. Even at 14 years old, inexperienced in what men and women wanted from each other, he easily read in Maeve her desire to give and take, to go further into him, into his desires and hers.

Jayne’s large hands went to her shoulders where he eased the robe off her till it caught on her large firm breasts. Brow furrowed in frustration at the hitch, he remembered the tied belt and took his fingers there to free her body from the garment. Making quick work of the tie, he spread the pretty material open and looked his fill at her naked firelit torso there in Maeve’s sitting room.

“Gods, Maeve, you’re ruttin’ beautiful,” he breathed, his pupils enlarging in pleasure, his mouth going suddenly dry with ratcheting want.

She smiled and blushed the slightest bit at the smoky voice of the man at whose legs she knelt, smiled wider at the fully grown man’s look on his swai face. Reaching a hand up to trace his jawline she continued the gesture to the back of his head, drawing him down to her bosom.

Jayne had no reason to struggle, not when she was taking him where his eyes and mouth wanted to go.

On contact he rubbed his shaven cheek along the valley between her breasts before sliding back up to breathe on one nipple already tightly ruched in expectation of his caress. He’d never seen one this close-up before but didn’t feel inclined for looking so much as tasting, so he did.

When his warm mouth touched her sensitive tip, then opened wider to tug on her there, Maeve moaned and inhaled sharp and sudden-