“You think you need to control something. But I think what you really need is to lose control.”
Felicity began to shake at Asher’s words and found herself backing up, away from his warm touch, away from his tempting body and frightening suggestion.
“No,” she whispered. “No, I’ve had control taken before, I don’t want that.”
His brow wrinkled. “I’m not taking about having control taken, Felicity. I would never do that to you. I’m talking about trusting me enough to give it.”
She shut her eyes. Once upon a time, she would have given this man anything. She would have trusted him with her heart and her future and her soul. But he’d walked away from all of that, and now the very idea of bending to his will even in the slightest was too terrifying.
“I can’t,” she whispered, and blushed at how her voice broke.
He touched her cheek again and she opened her eyes to find he had moved on her and how he was right before her again. His expression was gentle, his touch hypnotic, and she swayed toward him.
“Can’t you?” he whispered as he ducked his head to kiss her again.
His mouth moved over hers with feather-light gentleness, just brushing back and forth until she opened and allowed him in. Only then did he taste her, fill her. Her knees went weak and she clutched at his arms for support. He offered it immediately, wrapping those strong arms around her and keeping her upright when she was no longer capable of doing so.
She surrendered to his kiss for a moment, a blissful moment, before her mind began to spin again. She jerked and reached down, working toward touching him. But he held her closer, keeping her from cupping him or stroking him.
He drew his lips away and whispered, “Let me.”
She shivered at that quiet, charged order. Let him. Let him touch her. Let him dictate what would happen between them. Let him touch every part of her. Let him in where he might see how weak she was beneath the veneer of fortitude.
Right now, she would risk it. Because when he touched her, she felt alive again.
“Yes,” she murmured, almost on a sob.
He smiled and then swept his arms beneath her legs and carried her to his bed. He laid her across the pillows and stepped back. As she watched, he untied his robe and slipped it off.
She caught her breath. He was naked beneath. Utterly, totally naked. And oh, so beautiful. He was hard and male and muscular, from his broad shoulders to his rippled chest and stomach, to his narrow hips and strong thighs. But the thing she noticed most was the thick cock that was hard and ready, curled against his stomach.
She’d hardly ever seen her husband fully naked. Erasmus had mostly just flipped her over, unbuttoned his trousers and taken her in three or four stokes. It was a duty. Sometimes a punishment. But never a pleasure.
This was something else. She found herself wanting to touch Asher, to feel him, to taste him. To imprint him on her body like a brand that permanently marked her as his, even if she wouldn’t be for long.
He smiled down at her and then reached out to touch the tie of her dressing gown. She watched his long, tan fingers unloop the silken fabric and finally part it, opening the robe in what felt like painful slow motion.
She blushed as he looked at her, her own naked body on display. It was too intense and she moved to cover herself. But he shook his head. “Don’t. Please. I’ve wanted to look at you like this for so long, I can hardly remember a time before. Please let me.”
There were those words again.Let me. Let him.
Her mind revolted, but her body was seduced, and she slowly relaxed and stared up at the ceiling as he looked at her. He eased down beside her on the bed, laying on his side as he continued to stare at her.
“Will you look at me?” he whispered.
She caught her breath. He was testing her. Testing that control he said she had to release. She slowly forced herself to meet his eyes.
“I want to touch you,” he said.
She nodded, a jerky movement that felt unnatural as she did it. But God, how she wanted him to touch her. In that moment, she would have given anything for it.
She expected him to cup her sex or a breast, but instead he placed his hand on her shoulder, delicately teasing her skin with his fingertips. She stiffened at the intimacy, the gentleness, and his hand stopped moving. He left it resting on her shoulder as she gasped for breath.
“In and out,” he whispered, and took a few deep breaths.
She followed his suggestion, falling into the rhythm he set until her heart slowed and she stopped shaking. He moved his hand again, tracing her shoulder, her collarbone. She watched his hand move across her body, tension coiling in her. He smiled and leaned in to kiss her.
She whimpered in pleasure, sinking into the kiss as his hypnotic fingers moved back and forth, lower and lower, and finally he brushed the pad of his thumb against her left nipple.
