She sucked in her lips and ran her tongue over the edge. Had she really put her mouth on his cock? Had she really enjoyed his helpless sounds of pleasure?
She closed her eyes and lowered her head, curling into his side.
Why should she be flustered or ashamed?
The means she’d used to please him weren’t any more scandalizing than the means he’d used to please her. And she wasn’t exactly sorry. She just didn’t want to relive the process in detail. Not yet. Pleasure happened—that was all she needed to know.
Astonishing pleasure.
Jarring, in fact.
So jarring she wasn’t sure if they’d just shared something sacred or if she’d broken some unwritten, protective rule. Was she still a virgin?
She thought he’d preserved the maidenhead he’d been so desperate to tear—whatever tearing entailed—butsomethinginside had torn, anyway.
Something not necessarily physical, but deep.
Though her body lounged, satiated and drowsy, within, she remained needy, desirous, and longing for something from Rayne she couldn’t express.
She rested her cheek against his chest. His heart vibrated in steady pulses. Deep, even beats, filling her ears like the stomping of faraway elephants migrating across a boundless plain.
She’d spent her whole life plotting, mapping out pitfalls and detailing dangers based on the experiences of others, deciding exactly who and what and how she wanted to live. Now that she’d placed a resolute foot into the unknown, however, she suddenly realized her cartography had been suspect all along.
She recognized nothing.
Terra incognita.
A synonym for Rayne.
She splayed her hand across his stomach. He’d warned her, hadn’t he? He’d said he’d steal her innocence, that nothing after would ever be the same.
She’d confidently replied with some nonsense she didn’t quite remember—something about him not being able to steal what she freely gave. She would have said anything at the time. She’d never wanted anything—anyone—with such force.
But her wanting hadn’t come close to his appetite, a hunger that saturated her with equal yearning and trepidation. He’d pushed her to her edge—a place where anticipation and apprehension braided into one.
He’d trapped her in her greatest fear—incapacitation.
His body had bound her legs. His giant hands, her wrists. And, just as the nascent quivers of alarm had chimed in her veins—his deep, familiar voice had percolated down into her center.
Does this arouse you?
She hadn’t been sure at first, but once she’d settled her breath, her awareness had riveted to other sensations. Fear had become heightened sensitivity, watchful expectation.
She hadn’t just been aroused; she’d been alert, attentive, open.
Willing to do as he bid.
Anywhere.
Anyhow.
Anytime.
He’d given her a new way of perceiving him, a real, though invisible, bind.
New, confounding emotions overflowed in her heart, leaving her fragile. She didn’t know how or if she could tell him any of her swampy thoughts. And, for some inexplicable reason, she couldn’t look into his face.
If a few simple kisses had sent Rayne running off to another continent on the other side of the world, what the devil was going to happen now?
