Page 49 of Sanctuary of the Shadow
“Raith…”
The word was whispered against his lips. She couldn’t remember straining up to reach them, nor could she remember curling her fingers around his forearms. The hard muscle had no give beneath her grip.
He leaned a little farther down, and their mouths brushed.
Again, her breath caught in her throat. He pulled back infinitesimally, but she chased him. They brushed again. They were frozen. Time was frozen.
And then he leaned the rest of the way down and fused them together.
His mouth was hard and soft at the same time. His body poured out heat like a furnace. His heady male scent swamped her senses. She wanted more.
Their lips parted, tiny gaps for air to escape forming between them before they pressed back together. One hand still tangled in her hair, his other landed on the curve of her waist, fingers clenching the silk of her nightgown.
Her palms slid up to the moist skin of his shoulders, droplets from his wet hair slicking the backs of her hands. He kissed her firmly but didn’t try to take it further, and she suddenly wondered if he had ever done this before. If not, it was up to her to show him.
Gathering her courage, she flicked her tongue against the seam of his lips, encouraging them to open. He stiffened for a second before parting them. She stroked her tongue inside his mouth, brushing it against his, careful to avoid his fangs.
His fingers tightened in her hair, tugging at the roots. Encouraged, she did it again, and this time, he mimicked her. They met in the middle, tangling together, and she was lost.
Apparently, so was he. Unraveling from her hair, both his palms spanned her waist. They slid down to her hips, pulling her firmly against him. His arousal, long and thick, pressed against her soft belly.
She moaned, rubbing against him, longing to feel more of that tantalizing friction. His fingers tightened almost painfully as they slid down to grip her ass.
He dragged his mouth away. “Harrow…”
She was too far gone to care about anything except having more. “Raith.”
“We shouldn’t…” His lips brushed hers again, not quite a kiss, and she tried to chase his mouth as he pulled back, but he held her firmly in place.
“Why not?” Still, she strained to reach him. Another time, she might be embarrassed at her boldness, but not now. Not with him.
“I want…” Another brush of his lips. Was he trying to drive her mad? “Things.”
“What things?”
“Things.”
“I want things too.” She wanted a lot of “things.” He had no idea how badly.
“I shouldn’t.”
“Why not?”
“You’re— I’m—”
His hesitation only stoked her passion higher. “There’s nothing wrong. I want the same things as you.” Maybe. If he was as inexperienced as she guessed he might be, he probably wasn’t thinking half the salacious thoughts she was.
Then again, maybe he was.
That firm grip on her ass scooped her up as if she weighed nothing. Her legs wrapped around his hips, and their mouths melded together as he crossed the room and ducked under the curtain.
He dropped her on her back on the bed.
She stared at him, looming over her, braced by powerful arms, and she couldn’t believe she was about to do this. She shouldn’t have been surprised—if she was honest with herself, she’d wanted it from the first moment she laid eyes on him. And yet there was a part of her that still couldn’t believe she was here, with this man. This quiet, intense, powerful, beautiful man. Her gaze followed the ribbed strength of his abdomen down, down…
“Take the towel off.” Though the words were bold, her voice came out a whisper.
He stood, eyes never leaving hers. He tugged the towel off.
