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“That—” Rhys’s eyes widened. “You saw?”

“I did.” Her cheeks heated.

“And you thought—”

“I did.”

Rhys fell back down with a groan again. “It was cold. My nether regions do not respond well to the cold.”

Isabel giggled again and touched his length, then enveloped him with her hand at the base. It was smooth and silky to her touch. It jumped in her hold, and Isabel smiled.

“But it does respond well to warmth?” Her voice came out thick and breathy with passion.

“Yes, very well.” Rhys’s answer was a pained groan.

Isabel tried to remember the instruction on the cards as she crouched before him and took the tip of his length into her mouth.

His hips bucked, and his hand immediately went to cover her head. “What—”

Isabel swirled her tongue, tasting him, and took him in deeper. Rhys wrapped her hair around his fist and pulled.

“What are you doing, vixen?” he croaked.

Isabel licked her lips. “Do you want me to stop?”

With a groan of surrender, Rhys loosened his hold, although he didn’t let go of her fully. Isabel took it as encouragement, lowered her head, and licked him from the base to his tip.

“Isabel,” Rhys growled. “Whatever you are doing there, you have less than a minute.”

Isabel chuckled and took him into her mouth again. Recalling more of the instructions from the back of the cards, she started pumping his length with her hand while taking him deeper. She swirled her tongue, tasting him, sucking on his length.

Her insides quivered, and hot liquid seeped out of her. She clenched her thighs together while not letting go of his length.

Isabel ran her tongue over his tip, tasting his salty essence. Rhys guided her lower down his length, and she obliged, taking him deeper once more.

Rhys groaned, and his hold on her tightened as he dragged her face away from his length. She still held him in her hand when the hot liquid spilled out and covered her fingers.

“Damn you,” Rhys growled as he lay prostrate on the bed, his chest heaving.

Isabel blinked up at him. “Did I—Is something wrong?”

“Wrong?” Rhys frowned. “No… I would have preferred to last a little longer, but you make it impossible.”

He closed his eyes, his face still a grimace.

Isabel rolled off the bed and moved to the dressing room on shaking legs. She still didn’t know what she’d done to earn his displeasure. She was quite certain he’d enjoyed her ministrations.

She washed her hands and cleaned up the moisture between her legs. She was extremely wet, and she felt an acute discomfort between her legs.

She took another towel, dipped it in water, and brought it to Rhys.

He sat on the bed, watching her curiously. Isabel handed him the towel, her entire body flushing in embarrassment. She’d almost forgotten that she was completely naked.

Rhys cleaned himself, discarded the towel, and went to help her into bed.

He pulled the covers from under the pillows, and the cards Isabel had been perusing earlier fell out to the floor. Isabel squeaked as she saw them, but it was too late. Rhys had already picked them up and studied them with an unblinking stare.

“What are these?” he asked, still looking through the cards.