His hand slid from her neck along the hyper-sensitive skin of her shoulders, and down over her collarbone.
Screw that. I ain’t no freaking lady. I’m from the twenty-first century, damn it!
She turned from the window and slowly, teasingly, licked her lips.
She dragged her gaze from his erection, to his lips, to his smoldering black eyes.
I’m going to enjoy this.
Her smile deepened at the startled look in his lust-laden eyes. Her practiced expressions and body language turned the tables on this seduction, but his deep, black, burning look told her he wasn’t ready to give over control...yet.
In spite of her sorry life experiences with men, there wasn’t another man who affected her the way Logan did.
It scared her to death.
It brought her to life.
He pulled her closer. Weak-kneed and dizzy with need, she stumbled and fell against him. She brought her trembling hands up to push against his naked chest. She needed space between them so she could continue breathing.
A sheen of sweat coated his jaw, and his chest rose and fell rapidly. Eager to touch more, she looked at him, devouring him from the hollow of his throat to the waistband of his forcefully tented trousers.
Though the room was draped in darkness, but she could still make him out in the shadows—he had the most beautiful chest she’d ever seen. Hard, muscular pecs met with lean, chiseled abs teasingly bisected by a thin line of coarse golden hair. Until this point, she’d been a fan of the manscaped male body. After seeing his, her flavors changed.
Running her hand across the width of his chest, she smiled appreciatively at the racing beats beneath her fingertips. The coarse hair covering the tautness of him tickled her palm. Heat and electricity rushed down her arm and speared her limbs.
So sensitive.
Breathing deep, she took his scent into her lungs, hoping to capture its spiciness forever.
She ached to touch more and ran her fingers down over his pec, clipping a hard, dark nipple with her fingernail.
He inhaled sharply. She flicked her nail over first one stiff nipple, and then the other.
His groan was her only warning.
His mouth was on hers before she registered movement.
His mouth?—
Oh, Lord!
His mouth was the immoral wickedness of Hell, and the unutterable bliss of Heaven, twined together, making unholy love to her lips.
She moaned.
He nibbled at the flesh of her bottom lip, and sucked the sensitive ripeness into his mouth.
Her knees gave out, but he pulled her closer, and used her utter vulnerability as a weapon—wielded with deadly purpose by a master seducer.
His hands.
Oh, God!
His caress slid along her ribcage. The heat of him easily penetrated the shield of her thin shift. She moaned again.
Too much.
Not enough.
