“Oh lovely,” she said, pressing up from the bed. She scooted to her knees and shimmied backward, working her way to his feet. The room was dim, only one candle and a low fire in the stove, but she could see him and she looked her fill. He was a large, thick man but with no fat; each muscle defined. His arms were like ropes; his abdomen a cluster of taut plates.
And then she saw his erection. She blinked, unprepared for the size and rigidity of it. It rose from a nest of dark hair, straining toward her, lifting off his belly. Ryan sucked in a little breath; she felt a rush of heat flood to her face.
“If your goal is to kill me, Ryan,” he grunted, “you’re very close. Very close.”
She glanced at him, licked her lips, and moved farther down his body. In the cave, he’d started at her feet, and so would she.
“Can you move to the center of the bed, so I have room?”
He nudged sideways and the movement caused his erection to bob. Ryan narrowed her eyes, studying him, determined to miss nothing. She would savor, and test, and remember all of it.
She rose on her knees, dragging both palms down his hard thighs to the tops of his feet. She explored the arch, the round bone of his ankle, the space between each toe. She glanced up. He’d tucked his hands behind his head, the posture of a man in repose. He gazed down at her with half-lidded eyes.
Reposed are you?she thought, biting her lip.I accept that challenge.Her hands reversed and felt upward, savoring the scrape of the hair on his legs, cupping the long muscle of his calf.
Gabriel let out a noise, half moan, half sigh. She smiled and dusted her hands to the tops of his legs to rest on his knees. His thighs were powerful, bulging with muscle; his calves tight and hard. His knees commanded all of these, and she could feel the strength there, the flexibility, the parts he used to ride a horse or climb a hill. It was breathtaking to roam freely over the broad expanses, now naked and relaxed, twitching under her touch.
After she’d tickled the area behind each knee and elicited another groan, she moved upward to massage the hard muscle of his massive thighs.
“But do you ride, Mr. Rein?” she asked idly, trying to be clever. But her voice came out broken and a little trembly; she sounded like a bird. Coincidentally, Ryan felt as if an entire flock flapped inside of her. Her heart had taken flight; swallows did loops in her belly, and a thousand wings fanned the burn between her legs.
Above his thighs strained theobvious—his jutting erection, and she remembered what he’d done to her that night in the dark cave. He hadn’t explored her so much as covered her body with his hand and pressed. He’d made her warm and alive and burn with little more than the heel of his hand. Dare she endeavor this? She wanted to make him burn, but she wasn’t certain that she was finished exploring him—really, thoroughly, exploring him.
Shyly, she glanced up. He watched her still, but his expression was less languid; darker, more heated. He’d pulled his arms from behind the pillow and rested his palms on either side of his hips. She raised her eyebrows and licked her lips, a question. He slowly hissed one word:“Yes.”
“Yes?” She wanted to be sure.
“Ryan,” he growled, and his hands closed on the bedsheets, squeezing them in balled fists.
Taking a deep breath, Ryan closed her eyes and slowly lowered her face against him. She felt the prickle of his body hair; she felt the hot, smooth steel of his erection, she felt his pulse pounding in his groin.
“Actually,” he grunted, reaching for her shoulders, “I’ll not last. Sorry, love, if we’re meant to carry on longer than five seconds more, I’ll not survivethat.”
She raised her head, and blinked at him.
“In fact,” he rasped, “I may not survive the visionof you, hovering over me, naked and innocent—Oh God. Will you touch me? Please? A hand? Hell, a wrist? A lock of hair?”
Ryan had never before seen him so agonized. His eyes were now closed, he breathed in and out in heavy puffs. Ryan licked her lips and carefully, delicately, settled her hand on his erection. It felt soft to the touch, but also solid. The skin was loose but the density was hardness and thickness.
“Is this alright?” she whispered.
His only reply was a whimper.
Ryan was intrigued and excited and she couldn’t believe she’d devoted so much time to toes and knees and ankles when there wasthis. She knelt over him, bobbing her hand, testing the feel of him. She checked his expression, watched it shift from agony to bliss and back again. His moans and sighs fluttered across her like a caress.
The burn and need in her own body were rising; too demanding to ignore. Had he burned for her when he’d touched her that night in the cave? Had he wanted her as much as she wanted him now?
“Enough,” he rasped, reaching for her wrist. “I can’t endure. Mercy, please, Ryan. Leave it. If you carry on with this torture, I cannot torture you in return.”
She liked the sound of this, so she released him. She massaged her hands over his flat belly, nudging fingertips into the seams of muscles, tracing the broad planes of his chest. She kneed forward and straddled his hips to properly reach farther up. When her body settled on his erection, the folds of her sex grazed his hot, smooth skin, and she let out a sigh.
This, she thought,thiswas the answer to the heatcurrently burning her up. She allowed herself an experimental nudge and yes—exactly, perfectlythis. She snapped her head up, checking for his reaction. He stared back, his hazel eyes blazing with intensity and lust. She pushed against him once more, reveling in the blast of sensation that sparkled from her core.
“Careful,” he warned. His hands found her hips. “I’d hate for you to become too distracted to properly complete this long, slow killing. Of me. You’re killing me, Ryan.”
Ryan ignored him and returned her attention to the muscles of his chest. Every few minutes, she thrust again, riding another blast of pleasure. Between the feast of muscles beneath her hands, and the hard, insistent erection between her legs, Ryan was rapidly losing her ability to navigate. She was distracted; she wanted to play, and ride, and touch, and taste. She’d paused to explore the hair on his chest, running her fingers back and forth, flicking his nipples, shaping her hands over his pectorals.
“I’m going to touch you now,” Gabriel whispered.
