12. Tell Me

~ CASIMIR ~

“Quickly,” I rasped. She was keeping her body just clear of mine, reaching up to pop the brass buttons at my chest, but her eyes were on the bared skin at my throat and collarbones.

“Tell me,” I whispered. “Tell me while you undress me.”

“I-I like the way you look,” she murmured, her eyes flicking up and down between my face and the buttons as she worked them loose.

Then my jacket was open and she slid her hands up my chest to my shoulders underneath the stiff fabric, pushing it off and back, her hands following the rounds of my shoulders, then down my arms.

I hadn’t told her to take it off, but I was too impatient to correct her—and this first time it was better to encourage her when she was bold.

Then she leaned against me to push the jacket off my arms and her body brushed against me and I groaned.

Had she been more experienced, I would have had my trousers off in seconds and plunged into her. But it was important to train her body to trust that each new step would be o