Now her heart danced with the possibility. He’d looked at her just so a number of times, but it had seemed inconceivable that he could—that anyone would. Yet the proof was right there in his eyes. A slow burn, a hunger, smoldering there, sparking an answering flame deep within her. Absurdly, with nothing more than his naked gaze, he stoked her own budding passion to an exhilarating peak.
Before she could stop herself, her fingers slid boldly down to his hand, turning it gently to her scrutiny, and exposing his disfigurement. Once again, their gazes met and held, neither of them able to break away from whatever force held them snared. Cutter said absolutely nothing.
But then, Elizabeth hadn’t expected him to. He wasn’t the sort of man who would reveal anything easily. Yet she sensed that the moment was right. And she needed to know. “How—”
The shadows deepened in his eyes, making them appear fathomless, as though one could topple into the depths of them and never, ever, find her way back into the light... as though they’d seen more than a man should have. “Leave it be, Doc. You don’t wanna know.”
Elizabeth’s gaze never wavered. Despite his closed expression, she sensed his vulnerability. “Yes, I do,” she insisted, her voice soft but determined.
Cutter sighed ruefully, shaking his head, as though he begrudged himself the comfort she was offering, yet couldn’t turn it away. His voice sounded gruff. “It’s not anything worth digging up, Liz... too long ago now.”
Acting out of impulse, as well as the need to return the comfort he’d given earlier, Elizabeth lifted his hand to her lips, squeezing with compassion. And then, before she could stop herself, she was kissing each scalding fingertip, lingering on each, as though to kiss them were to heal them.
As he watched her through heavy-lidded eyes, growing heavier, Cutter’s insides vaulted. His throat constricted. “Lizbeth,” he said thickly. “I don’t think you know what you’re doing, gal.”
Elizabeth chose that moment to meet his gaze, and what was revealed in the depths of them made Cutter’s pulses leap to life.
Damn him, if the little harridan wasn’t trying to seduce him!
Why he suddenly felt compelled to warn her off, he didn’t know. But he did. He had the feeling that she was riding on instinct, that too many days on the trail with a man had made her vulnerable, and he didn’t want her that way.
She kissed another finger compassionately, her eyes closing with the intensity of her feeling. “Lizbeth,” he groaned. But further words failed him—to hell with good intentions!
With a tortured moan, he lifted her up, into the spot between his legs. Weakened by the quivering of her limbs, Elizabeth couldn’t help but sink to her knees with a gasp of surprise. With a grunt of satisfaction, he wrapped his arms about her, hauling her up against himself. His hand went to her throat, his thumb beneath her chin, raising it up.
Elizabeth never even thought to protest. She knew he was going to kiss her... prayed that he would, even... wanted it so badly. His gaze grew heavier as he drew her closer, as though he would pull her inside of himself, and then, very slowly, his mouth slanted over hers, warm, hard, and unyielding, and Elizabeth swore she’d suddenly died and gone to heaven.
Chapter Sixteen
He kissed her deeply, feverishly, as though he were losing himself with every second that passed, and Elizabeth found herself clinging, arching toward him desperately, her body seeking out his instinctively.
It felt so good. So right... the yearning so deep. Warmth began a slow coil deep within her, creeping out into her limbs, making them languid with desire. More than anything, she wanted to give herself to Cutter. It really didn’t matter that nothing could come of it later. Nothing mattered. Only this—the moment. And she intended to seize it. She’d had so few in her life... so very few... and this was one she couldn’t deny herself. Lord help her, but she couldn’t.
So intent was she on the interplay of their mouths that she hadn’t even felt Cutter undo the braid from her hair. But suddenly she was aware that he was threading his hand through the length of it, separating the long, rain-thickened strands with great care as though it were rare silk, freshly washed, instead of damp and unkempt. Like a man consumed, he brought a lock to his nostrils, and they flared with the scent of it. The look of intense pleasure on his face sent a warm quickening through her.
His lips were scalding against her ear. “Sooo long,” he hissed. “I’ve wanted to do that for so long.” He kissed her lobe, nibbling it gently, all the while combing his fingers through the length of her hair. Tilting her head just so, he brushed the side of her face, sighing into her hair. The tenderness of his touch was almost unbearable.
“Lizbeth,” he whispered, “don’t you ever just wanna let down your hair... be free?”
She did. Sometimes the feeling fairly overwhelmed her. Sometimes... sometimes she craved nothing more than to kick off the heavy high-button shoes she wore and run barefoot through the fields... to laugh... How long had it been since she had laughed? Truly laughed? Without realizing it, Elizabeth nodded, her body going limp in his arms. Whatever Cutter wished of her, she wanted to give him in that moment.
Anything at all.
Reverently he spread her hair about her shoulders. Without a will of her own, Elizabeth clung to him wantonly, her head tilted seductively, her eyes closed in delight.
“If you’ll let me,” he began huskily, his voice whispering promises, his lips worshipping her face, “I can show you how easy it is to cut your wolf loose... how good it can be between us.” His knuckles swept across her nipples, and they budded instantly as he stroked them deliberately.
“Feel it?” he whispered as she whimpered. All the while, he stroked the tip of her breast with the back of his hand. Stopping suddenly, he gently tweaked the nipple, rolling it between the roughened pads of his fingers.
The sweetest ache pulled at Elizabeth’s core. Lost in the sensual bliss, she nodded, her voice having fled entirely. Though her eyes were opened, she could see nothing through the sweet haze of pleasure.
“Just say the word,” Cutter coaxed, a ruthless gleam in his eye.
Elizabeth didn’t know what to say. How to say it. Some part of her still understood that to acquiesce was to go against everything decent ever taught her. And though she wanted to, more than anything, she couldn’t step over that line. She arched again, begging without words, and Cutter understood.
With a grunt, he lowered his mouth to the breast she offered so willingly, nibbling at it feverishly, nipping at it through her cotton shirt. He tore himself away, only long enough to fumble with her blouse.
Drinking her fill of him, Elizabeth’s eyes never left his as his free hand undid her buttons. One by one, quickly, deftly. Her breath coming in small gasps, she let him support her with a firm hand behind her back, while once again, the feel of cotton sliding out of her skirt sent quivers down her spine. With his rugged fingers, he laid her blouse open, lifting her camisole, exposing her breasts to the cool air. He dipped his head to suckle one nipple eagerly, while he fondled the other. The coarse texture of his fingers against her soft skin sent a quiver of pleasure rippling through her.
