34: He plays her

*Skye*

Keep playing? Is he mad? If not for the wicked challenge in his eyes before he disappears beneath my skirts, I may have kicked him out of the way. Instead I return my fingers to the keys while he brackets my hips and slides me to the very edge of the bench. I strike a wrong chord, cringe. I am not going to allow the kisses he is trailing along the inside of my thigh to distract me. It matters not that I can scarcely breathe or that I am suddenly so warm I can swear the room has caught fire.

Then his mouth lands on the bud of my desire and I nearly come up off the bench. Instead I pound the keys as his tongue circles, as the pleasure mounts. I drop my head back, unable to concentrate on the tune, simply striking random chords. What does it matter when he is doing such wicked, wicked things, when he is distracting me, causing me to be perched on the threshold of so many incredible sensations swirling through me, urging me to cry out…

“Ben, what the devil…”

With a screech at th