Valentine won after that, and Marissa removed her petticoats after a great deal of argument as to whether they constituted one item of clothing or three. In the end he won, and she removed all three. As she sat down opposite him, she was flushed from the argument and very conscious of her half-naked state. Although in fact she wasn’t really naked; her bloomers covered her down to the knee and from there her stockings covered her to her toes. Her chemise and stays were another barrier to his gaze, despite her shoulders and arms being naked, and her breasts pushed up to make the décolletage of her evening dress more daring.
He took his time admiring her. “You are beautiful,” he said, his voice low and husky.
“So are you,” she teased, her gaze admiring his torso. “Can’t I touch you, just a little, Valentine?”
But he shook his head and handed her the dice.
Marissa won next and ordered him to remove his stockings. She was tempted to go straight for the undergarment but decided it would be too peculiar to see him naked with his stockings still on.
Valentine won twice after that, and Marissa removed her own stockings, peeling them slowly over her calves and dropping them to the floor, then her stays, which were a struggle that left her breathless and hot, although much less restricted. Only the chemise retained her modesty.
“Do you still think you are going to win?” he demanded, eyes glittering, the dice ready in his hand. “This game requires more skill than you think, minx.”
“It is a simple game of chance,” she retorted, watching his hand as he allowed the dice fall and rattle across the tabletop.
A one and a two.
With a little smile, Marissa picked up the dice and held them a moment tightly in her palm, before letting them fall. She could hardly believe her eyes. A one and a one! Her gaze lifted to his, and saw the bright flare of triumph.
Again he took his time while she shifted about uncomfortably.
“The chemise,” he said.
She reached to the small buttons and paused.
“Do you want to default?” he said.
“And allow you to win? Never!”
Slowly she began to unbutton the front of the garment, aware that with every inch her breasts were revealed to his gaze. She slipped one of the shoulder straps down, and then the other, allowing the chemise to slide to her waist, then wriggling it over her hips and thighs, reaching down to tug it away and drop it on the growing pile of clothing beside the table. When she straightened, her arms were crossed over her breasts, hiding her nakedness, while only the bloomers covered her lower body.
“No hiding,” he reprimanded her huskily. “That’s against the rules.”
“How do I know you’re not making up the rules as we go along?” she retorted breathlessly.
“Unfold your arms, Marissa.”
His gaze was compelling, his voice commanding, but neither would have made Marissa capitulate if she didn’t want to. Because the truth was, she wanted him to see her naked. She felt beautiful beneath his gaze. She wanted his eyes on her.
Marissa unfolded her arms. He drew in a sharp breath, taking in the sight. It was as if she could feel him touching her, brushing against her skin, causing her to give a little shiver. Her breasts felt full and heavy, her nipples aching and dark with excitement.
He groaned aloud. “Beautiful…”
Her stomach went hollow. She drank him in, sitting there in the candlelight, so masculine, so handsome. She almost stood and flung herself into his arms, but then she remembered that if she touched him then he would win, so she stopped herself. Because it was important to her that she win this tug of war, almost as if to win was an omen of things to come.
“Your turn,” she said, her voice sounding unlike her own. “Roll the dice, Valentine.”
He hesitated, as if this moment was important to him, too, and then he picked up the dice and lifted his closed hand to his lips as though to give himself luck. This time he didn’t draw out the process, but threw quickly.
A five and a three.
Marissa gathered them up and into her palm. She rolled them across the table, aware of his warm naked skin so near to hers, the quick rise and fall of his chest.
A five and a five.
She had won.
He groaned and stood up, fumbling at the buttons on his undergarment. Her gaze took in the bulge between his thighs, as he rolled the cloth over his hips and down his thighs. His cock was jutting out from his body, and as she looked it quivered as if it had a life of its own. She wanted to touch him, feel him, discover all there was to know about him. He shoved the garment down to his feet and kicked it aside, and a moment later she was reaching out to close her fingers around him.