Page 98 of Dark Rebel's Fortune

"You're gorgeous," he murmured.

Her eyes were glowing with inner light as she gave him another thorough once-over. "So are you. Now, lose the pants."

"So bossy." He did as she commanded, standing before her in his boxer shorts.

The stretchy cotton couldn't hide the massive erection he was sporting, and as her gaze lingered there a little longer than other parts of his body, he felt a stupid surge of male pride.

"Like what you see?"

"Very much so." Her voice was husky with desire. "Shouldn't you turn the water on?"

"Yeah, I should." Max didn't move, mesmerized by her body and wondering how to best divest her of what was still covering her.

He hadn't forgotten what Kyra had told him aboutabstaining from physical pleasure for over two decades. The only times she'd been touched sexually hadn't been consensual, and it certainly hadn't been pleasurable.

Max forced the thought out of his mind because it had no place in this beautiful moment between them. Instead, he reached into the shower to turn the faucet on, adjusting the temperature until steam began to rise. Then he took her hand and guided her inside into the warm cascade that enveloped them both.

Water sluiced over them, dampening Kyra's hair and making the fabric of her bra and panties see-through.

It was doing the same to his boxer shorts.

"Can I peel this off you?" He pulled one strap down her shoulder.

She nodded, swallowing nervously.

Max took his time, pulling the other strap and tugging the garment down until her breasts popped free.

"Fates, Kyra." He knelt in front of her, reverently kissing each turgid peak while pulling the bra all the way down her toned legs.

When she stepped out of it, he tossed it aside, and it plopped down with a wet splash. Kissing down her flat belly, he pushed his thumbs into the elastic of her panties and pulled them down slowly, kissing every inch of tanned skin he exposed. When he discarded them, he was tempted to cup her bottom and sink hisface in her mound, but he reminded himself that Kyra didn't remember ever being with a man before, and her reintroduction to the world of carnal pleasures should be slow.

48

KYRA

Kyra was losing her mind. The anticipation was killing her, but she didn't remember how to make love to a man, and she trusted Max to make it good for her.

When he lifted her into his arms and sat with her on the shower bench, she was a little surprised, and when he reached for the shampoo as if he was going to wash her hair instead of licking every inch of her body, she was a little disappointed.

But when he worked the shampoo gently into her hair, massaging her scalp, she sighed with pleasure and closed her eyes.

"That feels amazing," she murmured, leaning into his touch.

Perhaps going slow and relaxing first was better than moving straight into the ravaging part. Supposedly, the buildup was no less important than the act itself.

"I've never washed a woman's hair before," Max said when he rinsed the suds out with the handheld. "Did I do it right?"

Was he really asking her about her hair routine right now? Was he afraid of moving too fast?

She could feel his erection under her, and it was deliciously hard and velvety smooth.

Her core responded to the feel of him just as it should.

She wasn't broken, she hadn't shriveled and died sexually. She'd been waiting for him.

"I'm waiting for instructions," he reminded her.

"Conditioner," she murmured.

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