“No?” She turned her face away, avoiding his kiss.
“No. Not to you.” He caught her face in his hands and insisted on the kiss, his thumbs tenderly stroking her cheek. She savored the hot, delicious flavor of his mouth, the intimate thrust of his tongue.
What Seth said was untrue. She would give anything for this passionate, ravishing tenderness from him—and that made him deadly dangerous to her.
He lifted his head, smoothing her hair off her forehead. “I got you a cell phone today.”
That was so unexpected, she could think of nothing to say.
“You'll send me cute little text messages now?” he prompted.
She closed her gaping mouth. “Is that what you want?”
“That's what I want.” There was a touch of embarrassed defiance in his tone. “I'm your official boyfriend now, and I want all the perks that go with the job. You cool with that?”
“Um, yes,” she murmured.
He cupped her head in his big hand and kissed her again, but the kiss had changed There was a soft, pleading sweetness to it, as if he were silently begging her for something which she could not help but give him. Something that would break her heart to withhold.
He pulled away and stared into her face, his eyes troubled.
“What's the matter?”
“I'm nervous,” he said bluntly. “I don't know much about the steady relationship thing. I feel like a bull in a china shop.”
She laughed softly and stroked the deep little frowning groove between his eyebrows “Just be nice. Be gentle.”
“It's not the sex I'm worried about,” he snapped. “And I've always been gentle with you.”
“Just because you don't leave bruises doesn't mean you're gentle. Conan the Conqueror.”
He stroked her hair, smoothing it all the way out to the tips. “Hey. Give me a break. I want you bad. You're so fucking beautiful, I just want to carry you off to my beastly lair and make love to you forever. On my bearskin rug.”
She touched his face with her fingertips and stared into his eyes, speechless. She could feel him gathering his seductive powers, weaving a spell to make her helpless with desire. He grabbed her hand, pressing hot kisses against her palm, and rubbed her knuckles against his cheek. “You're not throwing that Conan the Conqueror crack in my face again,” he said. “This time you'll tell me how much you want me. I want to hear you ask for it, pretty please.”
She drew back anxiously. “That sounds like another power game “ she said. “Seth, I don't—”
“Shhhh.” He placed a finger over her lips. “No, not at all. You've got me wrong. I just want to show you something about yourself. Something beautiful. You'll like it.” He explored her trembling lower lip with his finger, staring at her with hot, fascinated eyes.
A bold impulse flashed through her. She drew his fingertip into her mouth and suckled it. He jerked as if an electric shock had gone through him, pulled his hand from her mouth and began to unbutton her blouse with fingers that shook. “Goddamn buttons,” he muttered.
She laughed up at him. “You don't like my clothes, do you?”
“No, I do not. You're like a box with too much packing tape” “Poor baby. Such frustration,” she teased.
“Watch what you say, if you care about this blouse” he warned.
He got it open and flung it away, rolling her to her side to unhook her bra. He lifted it off with reverent slowness, caressing her breasts, rubbing the taut tipples against his palms. A flurry of peeling, unhooking and unzipping followed, and she lay before him naked.
He stared at her body, running his fingertips over her belly, dipping into her navel and then tangling tenderly in the soft nest of hair at her crotch. “Do you ever touch yourself?” he asked.
Raine was so startled, she couldn't reply. She stared at him, her mouth open, a hot blush sweeping up over her chest and face.
“Come on, sweetheart. Do you?” he coaxed.
“Doesn't everybody?” She tried to sound nonchalant.
“I don't give a shit about everybody. I'm interested in you.”
Her embarrassment melted away in the heat that radiated from him. “Of course,” she said simply.
“Touch yourself for me.” His voice was husky, pleading.
“But—don't you want to—”
He pressed her hand against the hot bulge in his black jeans. “God, yes. The next time. But first I want you to open up for me, all on your own. No pushing.” He settled between her legs and pushed her thighs wider. “Check me out, Raine,” he murmured “Civilized self-control personified. Didn't think I was capable of it, did you?”
“Is this another one of your power games?” she demanded.
“No way. It's a gift. To make up for hitting me.”
She shook with nervous laughter, and tried to wiggle away from him and his wicked satyr's smile. “Damn you, Seth. That's not fair.”
He lunged for her, grasping her waist and holding her still. “Please, Raine,” he said softly. “You're so beautiful. And it's so intimate, so secret. I'm starving for it. Show me that you trust me that much.” He dropped a gentle kiss on her belly, her hip, and let his hands slide, slowly and lovingly, all the way down the length of her thighs. He gripped her knees and pushed them wide again. “I want to know what goes through your head, what you fantasize about. I want to see that beautiful cunt get flushed and hot and soft and delicious. I want to watch you make yourself come. That's my idea of heaven.”
She couldn't answer, couldn't speak. He reached for her hand and pressed her fingers gently against her sex. “Show me.”
She squeezed her eyes shut and did as he asked, shy at first, but his magic was so potent that her inhibitions melted down into hot, sweet syrup. Her bedroom disappeared. They could have been anywhere; floating together in the silent heart of a white orchid, swimming in a tropical sea. She abandoned herself to the dance of shifting energy between them. He taunted her with his eyes, with his rigid self-control. She taunted him with her body and her desire.
A fierce, joyful power swelled inside her. She played with the soft, secret folds of her sex, her body arching and heaving, offering him everything. The feeling unfurling inside her no longer terrified her. It was a burning cloud that expanded in her chest, her belly, in her womb. Hotter, higher, brighter. She wanted to push him to the very edge of his self-mastery, but still he sat there, watching and waiting. His eyes glittered, feverish. Flags of hot color burned on his high cheekbones.
'Tell me what you're thinking now,” he demanded.
“I'm not thinking. I'm feeling,” she said shakily.
“What do you feel?”
“You.” She slid her fingers inside herself and writhed.
“What am I doing to you?”
“You're ... touching me. Kissing me.”
“Am I licking you?”
“Yes,” she moaned. “Yes.” Her hips began to jerk, frantic.
“And now?” His voice was low, hypnotic. “Is my cock inside you?”
“Please, Seth—”
“Am I fucking you now?”
“Yes!” She moved faster, following the swelling surge of pleasure.
“Say it,” he told her. “Say the words. What am I doing to you?”
“You're ... inside me. You're fucking me,” she gasped. The crude words launched her, made it all burst and fly apart.
She cried out and dissolved, shivering all over.
She rolled onto her side and curled up, panting. Reality slowly crept back, and along with it, embarrassment at what he must think of her. Displaying herself like that. She felt more vulnerable than ever.
Which had surely been his intent.
Her eyes flew open at the sound of his belt unbuckling, his fly unzipping. He peeled the black shirt off his lean, beautifully muscled torso, and flung the garment away. He pried off his boots and socks, tossing them into the corner, and hooked his thumbs into the waistband of his jeans. He smiled at her wickedly. “My turn.”