The Darkest Touch

discomfort, the need to run that always happened when he started to get too close.

It didn’t happen. He liked having her here in his room. This is where he wanted her to stay.

She leaned up on her elbows, arched a brow, and watched him. She’d never looked sexier, one slender leg raised, her bare foot planted on the mattress. A natural, unaffected pose. And when she smiled at him-a smile of confidence in what was about to happen, but also mixed with a touch of vulnerability-man, that was hot. He knew how she felt. Yeah, they both knew they were going to get down to it, but they both had feelings bubbling up to the surface. They could both get hurt. But they were still going to put themselves out there.

He liked knowing they were even. It made him want to show her that she didn’t have anything to be afraid of. Not with him, anyway.

He’d never been one to take time with a woman, to explore every inch of her body, to really pleasure her. It was always about getting to the sweet spot, getting them both off, then hightailing it the hell out of there before anything emotional happened. But now, with Angelique, he had all this damn. . emotion. It was physical, for sure; but there was much more than that, and he wasn’t sure he knew what to do with all of it.

Other than he really wanted to take it slow.

He crawled onto the end of the bed and kissed the top of her foot.

“That tickles,” she said.

“Does it?” He did it again, this time kissing his way up to her ankle and onto her calf, reaching out to hold her leg in place when she laughed. The deep, gravelly sound of her laugh sent shock waves of pleasure through his body.

“What are you doing?”

“Kissing you.”

“Oh.”

He loved the feel of her skin against his lips. Even her knee. And he loved even more the way she responded, lying back and just. . breathing. Deeply. As if she was really affected by his lips on her kneecap. That made him smile.

She let out a little whispered gasp when he moved upward, pressing his lips close to her inner thigh.

“Ryder.”

“Yeah, darlin’,” he murmured against her skin.

“I love your mouth.”

He loved the sound of her voice. “Keep talking to me.” He reached for the waistband of her shorts and tugged them over her hips, drawing them down her legs and out of his way. “Now these are pretty.”

Tiny black panties, part lace, part satin, skimming just her hipbones and barely covering her sex. Naughty little things, just like the woman wearing them.

She tilted her head up, watching him as he pressed his hand over her pubic bone.

“I. . I like underwear. It makes me feel feminine even when I’m working a dusty, dirty archaeological dig. Sometimes it’s. . months before I can dress up and I. . oh, God.”

He grinned, knowing she’d lost her ability to speak when he slid his fingers under the silky material to caress the moist, swollen cleft of her sex. Her head dropped to the mattress and she lifted against his hand.

“That’s it. Tell me what you want.”

“More.”

He gave her more, caressing her, dipping his fingers inside her. Damn. She clenched tight around him, grabbing his fingers with a warm, welcoming grip. His cock tightened and he wanted to be deep inside her. Right now.

But he was going to thoroughly pleasure her from the tips of her toes to the top of her head, which meant his own needs would have to wait. Which wasn’t difficult considering how she was squirming underneath him. Her reactions ratcheted up his own desire to please her. So he rolled to the side of her, placed a soft kiss on her hip, and just watched her face as he dragged his thumb over her center.

She turned her head, her eyes open and focused on his face.

“Do you like that?”

“Yes.”

“There?”

“Oh, yes.”

He’d never been this intimate with a woman before-never looked into her eyes as he brought her to the edge, or asked her how something felt. Hell, if he were honest with himself, he’d never cared before. Yeah, he got a woman there-he at least gave it that much effort-but before it had been about the pure physical satisfaction of sex.

Now he wanted Angie to feel this-really feel this. To know that it was him giving her this pleasure. And the selfish part of him wanted it to be better for her than it had ever been with any other man.

The room was filled with the sounds and scent of her, the heady aroma of her desire, the feel of her undulating beneath his questing hand and fingers. It was a unique experience, and he was drunk with the pleasure of it. All he wanted to do was touch her, taste her, and make her fully his.

But first, he wanted to make her come.

He slid his thumb over the swollen nub at her center, using soft, coaxing movements to draw her closer to