Page 78 of The Burning Mountain
She raised her arms, but he stepped back abruptly. The words of protest at her lips died when she saw his hands go to the ties that held his shirt closed, drawing them through the loops, taking his time, staring at her all the while.
There was tenderness there, along with longing, disbelief, and gratitude. And she watched as everything was swept under a wave of desire. There was, Chandra was discovering, nothing more thrilling than having a man fight with himself to have you.
He was much quicker with his lower garments as if her impatience had transferred itself to him. Or perhaps, it was an answering echo of her own longing. To be together in the truest sense of the word. Soon, he stood before her, proudly naked.
The breath froze in her lungs. He was just so beautiful, perfectly proportioned, with deep sweeping pectorals narrowing to a trim waist and a corded stomach.
Her eyes dipped, widening and then shifting away, the heat of embarrassment painted her cheeks, but her gaze returned, too curious to glance away.
He had a long scar on the upper part of his thigh; an injury she knew could have been fatal if it were any higher. And there were numerous ones scattered across his torso. Wounds and marks that spoke of his violent, mercurial nature. How far he was willing to take things, to correct a wrong, she thought, glancing at the red ruby on his finger.
Her throat bobbed on a dry swallow. Would he be gentle, or rough like his scars and strength suggested he could be. Even that didn’t deter her or make her apprehensive but rather wound the knot of excitement tighter, and she discovered that she wanted to see that side of him too.
Perhaps he understood because he took her hand and placed his kiss on her palm. “Whatever you wish me to be, Princess,” he said, and then she realized she had said it out loud. He placed her hand on his chest, inviting her to explore. Which she did.
The dips, the crests, the hard, the soft, and the achingly firm. The heat he gave off was enough to melt her into a puddle at his feet. He didn’t halt her exploration. Not until she got too bold.
“You’re playing with fire,” he growled, imprisoning her wrists at the small of her back. His height and her relative position meant he loomed over her like a dark shape that would have felt vaguely threatening if she didn’t trust him absolutely.
“And wearing way too many clothes,” he whispered.
Chandra held his gaze, noting absently, how thin his mask of control was. A corner of her mouth went up in a provocative smile as she bent her leg around his hip, curious to test his limits.
Heat flared in his eyes, those molten pools swirling with emotions she herself felt: excitement, challenge, approval.
And acceptance.
When the barriers came down and they were stripped to their very essence, there was no greater feeling than that of being accepted for who you were at your core.
His head dipped again, his mouth meeting hers. He released her imprisoned wrists, choosing to trace calloused fingers across her bare shoulders, then arms, even fingertips, back over her spine and the nape of her neck, never breaking the kiss.
She gasped to take in a much-needed breath. He nipped the shell of her ear and whispered, bobbing one of the earrings he had gifted her. “These can remain.”
“What?” she asked, dazed, and it took her a moment to comprehend his words. And to realize he had removed the rest of her jewelry and was now working on the ties that held her upper garment closed.
She forgot what she had meant to say next because he took her nipple into the hot cavern of his mouth, his hand molding her other breast. She fell back against the pillows, blind with desire, while he caressed every inch of skin he could reach.
He got up suddenly and removed the rest of her clothes, his impatience and strength as he maneuvered her caused a liquid heat to pool in her pelvis. She found herself back on the edge of the bed once again, as he knelt at her feet to remove her anklets.
“Men aren’t supposed to touch women’s feet,” she reminded him in a whisper as she angled herself up on her elbows to watch what he was doing.
He held her eyes from his position, her foot cradled in his palm. A thumb traced her instep and he followed the caress with a hot tongue, the edge of his teeth catching the sensitive spots she had no idea she possessed there.
Chandra hissed on a breath as her toes curled.
He stood up with a knowing smirk. “Any other places I shouldn’t touch?” he asked with a wicked smile, and Chandra could only shake her head.
He leaned forward and placed a knee on the bed. She moved back eagerly, and he followed, prowling toward her like a jungle cat.
The feel of his body on top of her, bare at last, was bliss. And when he finally,finallykissed her in the way she wanted, she gave up any semblance of control. She was a leaf afloat on a stream, buffeted by the currents of desire. Heat of a sort she had never felt before started building inside her, centering between her legs.
The wind swirled the curtains around their bed, twisting them together. Outside, the crash and roll of waves were lost in the sounds of sighs, moans, and quiet whispers.
He seemed to like kissing her…a lot. The crook of her neck, the tips of her breasts, the nip of her waist, her ankle, the place where her thigh met her torso and…others that made her twist in a mix of ecstasy and agony.
He slipped his fingers inside, where she was slick with desire, and it didn’t take long for her to climax.
Tremors rocked her body and when she was through with the aftershocks, he started again.
