The Miss Education of Dr. Exeter (6 page)

As he straightened, he became aware of Mia’s gaze locked on the ties in his hands. Her eyes quickly darted back up to his face. She nodded weakly as the color drained from her cheeks.

Hoping to appear less stern, Exeter raised both brows. “I am obliged to ask, what would pleasure you most? I am willing to do whatever it is you need of me tonight.”

She turned her back and stepped out of the coverlet, letting it fall to the floor. “I thought this wasn’t to be a seduction.”

He took in every inch of her lovely lithe body—the curve of her spine, and soft shoulder blades—not too angular. He reached out to caress her round, smooth buttocks, and stopped himself. “Perhaps you might order me to do things to you . . . if the thought excites you.”

Her skin glowed in the candlelight—not the typical rosy porcelain of the winsome English lass, but something warmer, sleeker, in pale tawny-colored tones.

“Something like . . . look at me, Exeter.” Unpinning her hair, she pivoted, slowly, arching her back as she turned toward him. He felt as though his eyes devoured her breasts, which were small and perfect with brown nipples set high on the slope of the curve. Stunning. Arousing.

Last night, he had glimpsed her standing in the open window, so achingly beautiful bathed in nothing but the pale moonlight. Then later, so vulnerable—in a shivering, insensible state—her rigid body as cold as ice. He had cared for her many times in the aftermath of her return shift to human form—carried her home and placed her in a warm bath. During those times, he was her protector or her doctor—not the man who was about to become her . . . Exeter exhaled a silent groan.

Waves of chestnut hair fell down her back. Yes, he had seen her before, but this was exquisite, and sensuous. He cleared his throat and yet his voice remained husky. “Or . . . you could ask me to be more forward—more aggressive.”

Her eyes gleamed with the heat of a young woman whose sexual interest was building. “Then do to me with your hands, what your eyes are doing to me now.”

Exeter brushed a thumb over her bottom lip. “Open your mouth.”

He pushed deeper and her tongue swirled around the tip as he slipped in his thumb. She wrapped her lips around the thick digit and sucked. Exeter closed his eyes, momentarily, to temper his pleasure. He knew this would be difficult beyond measure, but he was wrong.

This,
in fact, was the trial of his life.

He dropped his hands down to her breast and rolled a nipple between slick fingertips. She swayed forward, moaning in pleasure.

He cautioned himself. She must not become overwhelmed, consumed by sensation. He could not let passion overtake either of them. The doctor in him asked, “How are you feeling?”

Mia’s lovely dark eyes shimmered with light.

“So, the cat prowls.” Exeter withdrew and studied her for other signs of a shift. “What I am about to do is primarily for my safety, though it may also help to discourage a transformation.” He helped her into bed and she reclined at a comfortable angle against the pillows.

Exeter could not help but stare. “You look like a nude by Edgar Degas—one of those ballet girls he so loves to paint.” Exeter loosed one of the ties looped through his fingers. He reached out for her hand, winding the cloth around her wrist several times before he made a knot. “Too tight?”

Gleaming eyes looked at him—eyes that were aroused. She exhaled a sigh and her belly shuddered. “I’m fine.”

Exeter pulled the neck cloth taut and wrapped it around the bedpost. “Are you cold?”

She shook her head. “When the cat is near, the elements don’t seem to bother me.” Exeter removed his jacket as he walked around to the far side of the bed. “Do you want the candles?”

Her smile was shy, and so beguiling. “I want to see you—and everything you do.” Exeter looked up from his wrapping and tying. “Would you like me to disrobe? That might make you more comfortable—or no?”

Mia moistened her lips, scraping the bottom lightly with her teeth. “Odd, I suppose, but there is something wonderfully wicked about being undressed, on display as it were, for my fully clothed instructor.”

Exeter smiled at her candor and her irony. “That is because everything about this intimate little tableau is erotic.” He finished tying her other arm to the bedpost. “Your initiation into physical intimacy is happening too quickly for any young lady. But I also must be honest. As experienced as I am, this is arousing for me, as well.”

A slow smile curled up the ends of her mouth. “That makes me glad.”

He sat down on the edge of the bed, and rolled up his sleeves.

“There’s warm water in the washbasin, and soap—are you planning on doing surgery?” She was teasing him—making light of the situation. Perhaps he should follow her lead.

Exeter reclined onto an elbow. “No, but we could play doctor.”

He enjoyed her round-eyed look so much he allowed himself a grin. And something else—this wasn’t nearly as awkward as he had thought it might be. “I could place my stethoscope to your heart. Or I could take your temperature . . . rectally.” When her mouth dropped open, he chuckled out loud. Good God, this might even turn out to be pleasurable.

She looked wonderfully naughty—her cheeks flushed with desire as her mouth opened to him. How he wanted to ravish those lips. Exeter knew he was riding a fine line, and he was dangerously close to taking her—giving in to every carnal thought he’d ever had about Mia. And there had been so many of late.

She interrupted his lustful thoughts with one of her own. “You were being serious—about the . . . the thermometer?”

“Entirely serious. Much of arousal is in the mind as well as the heart.” He traced the curve of her breast and tweaked a nipple. Her entire body jumped, then shuddered from his touch. “As you can see, some of it is pure anatomy. The human body has a number of arousal receptors, including the anus.” He moved to the other breast and circled the areola so lightly he barely touched her, yet the nipple quickly puckered into a hard point. “What do you feel when I do this?”

Mia’s only answer was a sweet gasp for breath.

“Of course technique plays a role, as well.” Exeter trailed a fingertip down her torso, over ribs barely felt, and lingered for a teasing swirl around her navel. “Where does your body tell me to go, Mia?”

She raised her heavy-lidded gaze from his hand to his eyes. “Lower.”

Exeter hesitated just long enough to elicit the cutest growl. “Was that the panther or Mia?” A testament to the veracity of Phillpott’s notes. As her arousal grew, she would likely exhibit signs of an emerging shift.

Her pupils were round and black, and she smiled slyly.

So far, he thought they were managing well. The trick was to keep the arousal slow and steady. When Mia drew close to her climax, he would help her focus—keep her sharp and present, even as she surrendered to pleasure. If she didn’t transform—if she kept the cat at bay—that meant this system of shift management was going to work. With practice, she could use these same techniques to shift back and forth at will.

He plunged though a tangle of moist curls, palming her Venus mound and parting her labia majora. His fingertip found the pearl-sized spot that would soon become 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.”

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 so much desire. A pleasurable tension was rising inside—taking her to a place of exquisite, nearly unbearable sensation. His fingers plucked at her clitoris, and she moaned as if she were a taut string on a cello. “Exeter . . .” She murmured.

“Your eyes are dilated, Mia—flashes of green warn me to stay vigilant.” Words spoken between harsh, shallow breaths. Could Exeter be aroused? She wanted him to be.

“The notes say we must tempt the tiger—get her close.” She exhaled her answer against his cheek. “Kiss me again, Exeter. Wrap your arms around me, please—”

This time he took complete possession of her mouth. His tongue reached deep and filled her up, his sensuous lips roamed over hers. “Good God, Mia—you have bewitched me.”

“Harder. Bite me.” He caught her bottom lip with his teeth and drew blood. She bit him in return, and she felt the cat inside stir. They were tempting her, plenty.

“Let go for me, darling.” Then he added forcefully, “But don’t leave me—ever.” His fingers returned to her clitoris and stroked faster as ecstasy swelled inside her. Pleasure that demanded to arrive.

She lifted her head and roared. “Don’t stop!”

He positioned himself directly overhead, as tears came to her eyes. “You are going to climax soon. Look at me, Mia.” With his free hand he tilted her chin. “Stay with me, love.” Even as his fingers danced and circled, pleasure broke inside her—pleasure she might die of—–another wave of pleasure—and then suddenly, without warning the cat inside was loose.

Or at least partially so—for the panther was also constrained. Mia tugged at her bindings even as her snout elongated and her fangs materialized. For some inexplicable reason she lashed out at Exeter. Liquid crimson dripped down his neck.

She heard him call to her, faintly. “Come back to me.” Slowly, the wild thing inside relented and Mia was back—body and soul. Every cell in her body vibrated with pleasure—wave after wave of euphoria, until she fell into a state of insensibility. “That’s it—very good, Mia, stay with me.” His reassuring voice was near, coaxing her return to him.

Mia blinked and she was in her bedroom again, and there was Exeter, poised over her. Her heavy eyelids closed and she drifted off to sleep. She was not sure how long she remained in a partial stupor, drained, euphoric, incapacitated from her climax, but at some point—whether it was seconds or minutes—she reopened her eyes.

Exeter sat back on his haunches, with his hand to his throat. Blood ran down the side of his neck. Alarmed, Mia sat up, only to be yanked back. Bother! Her hands remained bound to the bedposts. “Did I hurt you, Exeter?”

“I’m fine—it’s just a scratch.” She was quite sure he forced a grin to reassure her. “Some sharp fangs you’ve got there, young lady.”

“Sorry.” She made eye contact with the man who had just . . . “So much happening at once, I could hardly . . .” Mia shook her head in wonder. “Exeter, it was so . . . there aren’t words to describe it.” She lay back and smiled rather provocatively. It must have been alluring, because Exeter returned her flirtatious gaze—not with his usual overprotective mentoring look, but with eyes that smoldered—something that caused a shiver of delight to run through her. And he appeared charmed—could that small smile signify . . . a touch of surrender?

Another shiver ran through her—this time from the chill in the air. She was beginning to feel herself again. “Before we discuss the wonders and side benefits of this new therapy, might you untie me, sir?”

Exeter reached for a bedpost, and then hesitated. “On second thought, I like you tethered—where I can keep an eye on you.” He climbed out of bed and poked up the fire, adding more coals.

Was Exeter teasing? Perhaps even flirting with her? Mia narrowed her eyes. “And to think I was about to compliment your mentoring. Now you’ve saved me the trouble.”

He circled the bed and unwrapped her bindings, taking time with each arm to massage her wrists and circulate blood back into her fingers. His hands were large, with elegant tapered fingers. Those lovely digits had sent her to paradise this evening. She looked up into laughing eyes—as though he could read her mind. “You were about to tell me what a pleasurable experience you had under my tutelage . . .”

She turned her hand within his and pulled him near. He sat down beside her so she could trace the dark red scratch along his neck. “Rather vicious of me—or her—to lure you in so close.”

The ends of Exeter’s mouth twitched upward again. “And my reward for braving the black panther for a kiss?”

Her finger moved from his neck to his upper lip, to the cut she had made from her bite. Mia gently kissed his lower lip. “Pay us no mind next time.”

Exeter, in turn, passed his thumb over her swollen bottom lip—the one that displayed his mark. “You need a tincture for this scratch and some ice from the cold closet.” He reached for his medical bag.

Mia sprang out of bed and opened her wardrobe. “Since we both need tending—shall we visit the kitchen together? If there’s an ember left in the stove, I’d like to heat some milk—for hot chocolate.” She was not unaware of Exeter’s gaze as she pulled on her dressing gown with a chinois motif. “Come.” She tugged on his medical bag. “And you shall have a dash of crème de menthe in yours.”

In the kitchen, Exeter lifted her up by the waist and sat her down on top of the long kitchen worktable. He unwrapped a clean piece of gauze and dropped a number of ice chips into the cloth. “Place this on your lip—put a bit of pressure on it.”

Mia held the cold, soothing compress and watched Exeter pour milk into a saucepan and leave it to heat on the stove. “I think I have some iodine . . .” he mumbled, rummaging about in his kit. “Ah—here we are.” He dipped a stick with a cotton tuft on one end into the small, amber-colored bottle.

Mia lowered the compress. “Looks better already.” He swabbed her bottom lip. “Ahh!” She cried.

“Don’t lick your lips—let it dry.”

Mia nodded and took up the swab and bottle. Exeter leaned close to let her dab a bit of tincture on his mouth and along his jawline. “Are you in much pain?”

“Pain? Not really.” Exeter’s mouth twitched. “Frustration, yes—pain, no.”

Mia lowered the swab. “I’m well aware of the sorts of things you did in my room—those . . . pleasures are intended to be mutual.” She raised her gaze to meet his.

“My satisfaction, or lack thereof, is of little concern right now. What is of utmost importance is that you learn the basics as quickly as possible.”

Mia nodded. “Valentine’s notes were quite clear. The trick is to let go and at the same time remain in control.”

Exeter skirted the table and moved the pan to a warming plate. Mia joined him at the stove. “I’ll stir.” Exeter grated shaved chocolate into the steaming milk, turning the cream a rich shade of dark brown. Mia poured the hot chocolate in two cups. “I’ve seen Mr. Tandi do this hundreds of times—you receive half the sugar, and a jigger of Menthe-Pastille.” Mia stirred in the doctor’s mint-flavored liquor. “There, something sweet to distract us from the sting of the tincture.” She set both cups of hot chocolate on the worktable.

Mia quietly drank the warm, bittersweet confection, and contemplated the man sitting on the stool beside her. There were moments, like now, when she couldn’t imagine her life without him.

Exeter sipped his chocolate and gazed at her over a tipped cup. His piercing green eyes were warmer than usual. “Did you know peppermint is sometimes regarded as the world’s oldest medicine?” When he looked at her as a woman, as he was doing now, something fluttered in her secret intimate place—the place they could share together, someday.

“Earlier, in my bedchamber, you said I could order you to do things—ask you to pleasure me in certain ways.”

“Whatever arouses you—I am happy to do your bidding.”

“Next time, I would like to pleasure you, as well.”

Without taking his eyes off her, he set his cup down and reached for her, pulling her close. “Mia, think carefully. You do realize what this means?”

Mia nodded. “Things have changed for us.”