His silence made her shrink into herself.
“We don’t have to rush it,” he finally said in a strained voice.
“You don’t want to?” She dared to slide her hand across the mattress and find his arm. She went farther, to his bare chest, where the fine hairs prickled and his beaded nipple poked her palm.
“I’m sure you could persuade me, if you set your mind to it.” She couldn’t read his expression, but his voice sounded faintly bitter. Self-deprecating, perhaps?
Her hand jerked, but she left it on his chest, where his heart was thumping steadily. She knew all the filthy things that Ellie had said must be ringing in his head, but they weren’t true! She wanted him for him, not his money or his father’s.
“Are you saying I should, um, seduce you?” Her voice thinned on the last words.
“If you want to.”
She didn’t know how. She lost herself every time he touched her, but it wasn’t a conscious thing. It was pure response and uncouched greed for the feel of him. For the pleasure of being stroked and petted, kissed and caressed. She loved how loved she felt when they were close like that.
She didn’t know how to bring him to that sort of pitch, though. She was thinking, This is it. This is where I lose him, but as she started to withdraw her touch from his chest, she felt the twitch in his arm, as though he wanted to stop her drawing back and only kept himself from it by freezing at the last second.
She could feel the strain in his tense muscles, suggesting his control was being tested.
In a bold move, she circled his nipple with the edge of her thumb and heard his faint inhale. It was incredibly encouraging.
She slid closer, but he stayed on his back, only moving his arm to curl it beneath his head so she could align herself alongside him. When she kissed his jaw, he turned his head, but let her take the lead on teasing him into parting his lips. Although she kept waiting for evidence of his natural inclination to dominate, he stayed almost passive, as though testing her resolve.
Or was his interest that tepid?
Anguished by the thought, she drew back a little, but her hand had shifted to his flat belly and it was rock hard. She smoothed the rippling muscles across his abdomen, traced the line of hair down the center, circled his navel and let her hand slide lower.
He was very hard.
It was the reassurance she had needed. She kissed him again as she stroked him, her own body growing languid and excited. She crooked her knee and rested her thigh across his, lying against him as she kissed and caressed him.
She dipped her head to press her mouth to his chest and the raised line of one of his scars met her lips. Stark fear of loss echoed through her. So close... He had been so close to being out of her reach forever.
She rubbed her lips with more purpose against the scar, trying to kiss it better. Heal it. Trying to tell him how grateful she was that he was here.
His hand came up to her hair as though to pull her away—something that might kill her when she had such an aching emptiness in her chest. Such an unbearable need to be close to him.
She moved to his nipple and pressed an openmouthed kiss there, teased the bead with her tongue and enjoyed a rush of confidence as he sucked in a breath that swelled his chest.
His response stayed stubbornly muted, however. It was frustrating. She wanted the wildness. She needed to know he wanted her the way she wanted him. She ached for the tenuous connection between them to be forged into steel by white-hot fire.
Had his desire for her been killed tonight? She couldn’t bear the thought.
She slid herself fully atop him, lips tracing from shoulder to shoulder across the smooth skin against his collarbone and over the muscles of his chest.
His hand left her hair and she thought he was going to embrace her; instead, both his arms went up to the headboard, catching under the edge of it so he was one long, straining beast beneath her. Her heart leaped with excitement.
She was having an effect on him. Whatever he was trying to prove to her or himself wasn’t easy for him. With a secretive smile, she danced her open mouth down his torso, following where her touch had strayed, dislodging the sheet as she went.
His musky scent filled her nostrils as she took a blatant taste of his salty length.
His whole body jerked and she pushed at his thighs, making room for herself to explore with her touch and her tongue. Filled with helpless craving, she did everything she could to give him pleasure. She wanted him to fall apart, to feel as vulnerable to her as she was to him.
Just when she thought he couldn’t grow harder or thicker, couldn’t possibly hold on to his control, he said in a rasp, “I need a condom.”
She rose to kneel between his legs. “I’m on the pill.”
“Let’s not take chances.” He rolled and reached into the side table drawer, withdrew one and handed it to her.
Shakily she tried to apply it, but she’d never done that before. He finally brushed her touch away and said, “I’ll do it. Take off your nightgown.”
He sounded distant and implacable. Not nearly as moved and aroused as she was. Her eyes grew damp with helplessness as she threw her nightgown off the bed and stayed kneeling where she was.
“Come.” He finally touched her, guiding her to straddle him. “This is what you want, isn’t it?”
“Is it what you
