She gave in to his words. Her senses exploded. Her pleasure arriving in wave after wave of tingles, shivers and tremors. “Ian,” she moaned.
“That’s it, Ava. I love hearing you say my name like that as you hit. Don’t hold back. I want to hear every sound you make.”
The intensity of her orgasm and his words were overwhelming. Her voice loud. Her body tense and tight. Finally, finally the sensations ebbed. Her hair clung to her face, the sheets tangled about her feet as she’d thrashed on the bed.
“Did you enjoy that, Ava?”
“Yes,” she told him, her voice still weak.
“I’ll see you in the morning. Good night,” he said softly. His voice was like another caress against her overheated and sensitive skin.
“But you didn’t get—” But the hum of the dial tone told her he’d already hung up.
Confusion assailed her. Reaching below her feet, Ava tugged the sheets around her body. Her skin still so sensitive to the touch.
She curled into a tight ball.
In protection?
She wouldn’t doubt it. She needed something like that right now. Because there was something else biology gave a woman. The knowledge of when to guard herself from certain heartbreak.
And in spite of the pleasure Ian’s sexy voice promised, the heartbreak was there, as well.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
AVA PREPARED THE SCENE carefully. Today was the first ritual she’d be working on with Ian on a one-on-one basis. She hadn’t expected to use this one today, but after the night she’d spent with Ian, the unselfish pleasure he’d given her last night, this ceremony seemed perfect.
Although she’d still take heed of the warning signals her body had sent off last night.
The oils and foods had been easy enough. The fresh flowers had been a bit hard to secure on such short notice in the wintertime, but she liked the effect of the deep purple carnations. With the help of a ladder, she’d managed to drape fabric over the windows and across the ceiling, using the ductwork.
Her front room had the very secluded, enclosed intimacy of a hut.
She’d forgone the fire for obvious reasons, but the couples using her book could easily recreate the Dravonian Sending-Off Ceremony environment with various candles, the way she’d done.
After she sliced open several black trash bags, her setting was complete.
“What’s with all the plastic on the floor?” Ian asked as he finished setting up his camera.
The man had been all business since arriving at her apartment this morning. Not a word about what had happened late last night. His attitude put her mind at ease that they could remain professional and still be sensual together.
“Oh, it’s to protect the hardwood from all the oil.”
His hand slipped on the tripod. “Oil?” he asked.
She touched the bag with her bare, red-tipped toe, and eyed him seductively. “A trash bag isn’t the most sensual or arousing prop I could have used, but it’s easily accessible for most women.”
“Did you say oil?”
Ava nodded. “Yes, for the massage. This is the Hero Send-Off. You may remember from my first draft that all the ceremonies in the book are for couples, so they can achieve the ultimate pleasure for both parties.”
She made a show of fluffing up the flowers, trying to hide her attempt at gauging Ian’s reaction. Although she’d appreciated his professional behavior, it kind of irked her on some level. “You remember, pleasure for both, right?” Her voice lower now.
Ian nodded, then returned his attention to his light gauge or whatever he was fiddling with. His movements were choppy, his motions clipped.
That was more like it.
“But this is the Hero Send-Off. The Dravonian culture has died off now, but we know a lot of their traditions by their extensive cave drawings discovered in eastern Europe.” She found herself fingering the props as she watched him finish with his equipment.
“We suspect that the Send-Off developed during times of war, when clashing tribes fought over territory. But with the domestication of some plants, the tribes began to merge, and the women’s traditions for sending off their men moved to right before the last prewinter hunt.” Ian completed his tasks, and walked toward her. Reluctantly, almost as if he didn’t want to get near her.
She’d take that as a good sign. “Of course, the hunt was not as dangerous as going off to fight, but who could blame the men for not wanting to lose out on that particular practice?”
Ian shook his head, his brown eyes scanning the scene she’d set. “No, I can’t see any man wanting to give all this up.” Then his gaze returned to hers. Heated and curious—her favorite combination.
She had his attention now. Ian was clearly intrigued about what kind of send-off the women would give their men. “Can you take pictures in the hut I made? I think any shots in there would be more effective in explaining the atmosphere to readers.”
“Shouldn’t be a problem.”
“Good. Though I don’t want it to seem like I’m discounting the dangers of the last hunt. It was far more dangerous than others. The men would be competing for game with other predators, and the meat would be so important to sustain the tribe through the winter.”
A smile tugged at Ian’s lips and her heart did a tiny flip-flop. “Told you something more was needed than just fruits and nuts,” he teased.
“Yes, the men’s contribution was very important. Step inside the hut, and I’ll show you how the women prepared their men.”
The laughter left Ian’s eyes. Yeah, that will show you to try and tease me.
With a shrug, the robe Ava had been wearing slipped off her shoulders. The air was cool against her nearly naked skin. “The idea was to surround the man with his favorites. His woman would greet him in what she knew he liked to see her in. I didn’t know for sure what you preferred, but you seemed to enjoy my loincloth.”
Ian’s breath came out in a hiss as the robe fell to the floor. She adjusted the straps at her hips. She’d paired it with a matching beaded top, replacing the paint from a week ago. “If you were facing danger tomorrow, maybe even death, is this what you’d like to see me in the night before?”
Ian nodded, not able to take his eyes off her body.
Satisfied with his reaction, Ava sank to her knees and crawled into the hut she’d made. Ian followed, keeping his distance. A pretty impressive move when her makeshift hut was less than four feet wide.
Her voice dipped low. “The whole point was to make him feel important. Loved and yet invincible. As if he could face and conquer anything come the next sunrise. The woman would take away all his worry, to give him the opportunity to relax, not to think. Whatever her man most desires before he heads off to the hunt.”
“You know, if you want, I could go get us some steaks.”
Ava laughed low in her throat. She saw the naked desire on Ian’s face now. She met his eyes. “Although it seems only beneficial to the man, the woman enjoys it, too. This might be her last night with the one she loves. How better than to spend it in only…pleasure?”
“None better.”
“Let’s start with the oil.” She uncapped the bottle, and poured a generous amount in her hand, warming it between her fingers.
Ian’s eyes followed her every movement, and he licked his lips.
“Aren’t you going to join me?”
His gaze met hers. “What?”
“I think these pictures would be more effective if they show me demonstrating on a man’s body.”
“I have to take the pictures.”
“Isn’t there some sort of autosnap? Come here. How are you supposed to write it without experiencing it yourself? When you think you have a good shot, set it up, then come back.”
He paused for a moment, then he nodded. “That might work.” He turned his gaze to hers, and she almost gasped at the look of anguished desire displayed in those brown depths.