His breath was shaky as he closed the remainder of the distance between them and folded his arms around her. She tilted her head to rest against the warm curve of his shoulder and breathed in the scent of him. Woodsy pine and leather, something masculine and soothing all at once. Suddenly she wanted to coat herself with that. Have it close by so she could pretend he was always with her.
They stood in the quiet like that for a few moments. He smoothed his hands against her hair, she clung to him. At first it was only the comfort she’d requested. But as she relaxed, the inevitable response of her body to his became very clear.
The heat of him wasn’t just comforting. It was arousing. When his hands brushed her scalp, the sensitive skin tingled. When he shifted a little, she reveled in the strength of him. The thick solidness that she had often dreamed about since the first time she’d seen him, stripped half-naked in a ring, blood dripping down his forehead, eyes focused on his duty.
He let out a shuddering sigh and then began to step away, but she held to him. She lifted her face toward his and he looked at her. Now he wasn’t breathing at all. She wasn’t either.
“Please,” she whispered.
His eyes fluttered shut. If nothing else, she knew he wanted her. That had always hung between them. Now she was testing his resolve. She was selfish enough she wanted to break it.
“Jane,” he murmured, almost a plea.
“I want to forget for a while,” she said, and stroked her fingers along the length of his spine. “With you.”
CHAPTER 7
Ripley’s breath was ragged as he stared down into Jane’s face in the flickering firelight of the warm, quiet room. Perhaps there was some part of him that had always known it would come to this. That they’d opened a door when he kissed her the day before that couldn’t be closed. That once they started, they’d be incapable of stopping the momentum of desire.
“I don’t want to take advantage of your pain,” he whispered.
She didn’t answer with words. Instead she threaded her fingers through his hair and drew him down to her. Her breath was sweet on his lips, a whisper of her heat, and then she kissed him.
There was no resisting after that. Not when she drove her tongue against his, making a shivering sigh of desire and relief that made his whole body ache like he’d been in a fight. A losing fight, at that, though when she arched against him it was impossible to consider himself anything but a winner.
He cupped her closer, letting his fingers clench against the cotton of her gown, feeling the shape of her beneath the fabric. He couldn’t help the low, possessive moan that followed and she bent her head back with a tremble.
He took the offering that created and pressed his mouth to her throat, tasting the delicate line there as she lifted against him, pulling herself ever closer. God, she tasted sweet, exactly as he’d imagined her skin would taste, dreamed about on nights when he woke rock hard and even his hand couldn’t satisfy him.
He slid his mouth lower, across the exposed flesh above the bodice of her gown. He traced her collarbones, down to her chest, the top of her breasts. She whimpered, lifting again in silent plea.
He pushed her back and they fell against the bed together. He was on top of her and she squirmed beneath him, opening her legs as far as her pinned gown would allow, gripping one calf around him as she rocked beneath him.
Leaning back a fraction, he pushed his hand between them and found the line of buttons along the front of her gown. He flicked each one free, parting the dress, revealing her chemise beneath. It was sheer and lacy and he lifted his eyes to hers.
She smiled down at him. “I wasn’t about to replace my underthings just because no one sees them anymore.”
He dropped his head back to her chest. “Thank God for that,” he murmured against her skin.
She pushed her dress aside and was working on the straps of her chemise when he closed his mouth around her nipple through the fabric. Immediately she jolted beneath him and let out a little cry that sounded like music to his ears. He sucked, loving the shape of her. Loving the sound of her pleasure.
Loving her even more than he had before, even more than he thought possible. He was lost now anyway, he might as well revel in every moment. Make memories to keep him warm later.
He slid his hands down her sides and she arched her back, offering herself up to him as he continued to lick her. She had the strap of her chemise off on one side now and she pulled it away, revealing the small, perfect globe of her breast.
“Christ,” he muttered before he swirled his tongue around her nipple again, this time with nothing between him and the taste of her. She was panting as she ripped the chemise away entirely, baring herself to him. She pressed her breasts together and he flicked his tongue back and forth between them, teasing each one, stroking his tongue through the valley between them. She rocked beneath him as he did so, harsh breaths the only sound in the quiet room.
He drew lower, pulling the dress and chemise away as he dragged down her body, tossing them both over his shoulder when he could free her from them. Then he stood up and looked at her.
God, but she was perfect. So fucking perfect that he feared he’d never want any other person quite the same again. She would be the unattainable standard.
She watched him watch her for a brief moment and then she opened her legs. She wore pale cream stockings with a red pattern stitched through them. Her garters were the same red, stark and erotic against her pale skin.
And between the thighs where those garters were tied? A slick, pretty pussy he couldn’t resist.
“What are you waiting for?” she murmured, reaching for him.
He chuckled. “I’m waiting because this is the point where I usually wake up.”
