Silence.
She found the courage to look up.
Green eyes clashed with her own and time stopped.
“Beautiful.” He broke the connection to run those eyes down the corset-like teddy, to the point where the lace tops of her stockings met the bare skin of her upper thighs. Then he retraced his journey, leaving her scarcely able to breathe. And that was before he shrugged off his shirt.
She bit back a whimper but not soon enough.
“If you want to touch, do it.” His hands went to her waist and stroked down to close over the curves of her bottom with boldness that made it very, very clear he considered her his in the most basic sense.
Hands fisted against his chest, she fought the urge to lean closer to taste him. His skin was beautiful, healthy and golden brown, radiating power. A second later, he used that strength to pick her up and drop her lightly on the bed.
Then never taking his eyes off her, he sat down on the edge to remove his socks. The muscled temptation of his back laid waste to her final defenses. She was about to reach out to touch when he stood. His hands went to his belt.
Fingers grasping the sheets, she watched mesmerized as he unbuckled the belt and pulled it out of the loops. It fell to the carpeted floor with a dull metallic sound. But she could hardly hear anything, her attention fixated on his fingers as they undid the top button of his pants.
Then he pulled down the zipper.
Cheeks ablaze, she closed her eyes and felt—more than heard—his low chuckle as he got rid of the pants and climbed into bed beside her. Throwing one leg over her lower body, he put a hand on her stomach. “I’m not naked…yet.” It was a scandalous whisper in her ear.
Opening her eyes, she found his lips a thought away from hers, his eyes holding no amusement despite that chuckle. The hand on her stomach slid lower.
“Stay with me,” he ordered when she would have turned her head.
She stayed, admitting to herself that she was a full participant in this dance at the very instant that he moved to cup her intimately. Her body arched up and she found herself squeezing her thighs to hold him to her. Giving a hoarse groan, he kissed her hard, that big hand rubbing the excruciating need between her legs. A second later, he was gone. She cried out at the loss, the sound so desperate she shocked herself.
“I want you naked.” His fingers begin to unlace the ribbons holding together the teddy. His clenched jaw left no question as to the force of his arousal. “Where did you get this?”
“Hollywood Boulevard,” she managed to answer.
Kissing the curve of her neck, he pushed one hair-roughened thigh between hers. “Wear it for me again.” It was a definite command.
She might have protested his arrogance had he not chosen that moment to peel apart the sides of the teddy and cover a breast with his palm. Her mind splintering, she pushed into that callused male touch. But he released her far too soon. She had to bite her lower lip to keep from begging him to come back.
“I like the way you look at me, Jess. Now it’s time for me to look at you.” Rising to his knees, he moved until he could tug the teddy off completely and throw it aside. Then he took inventory of her with his eyes—from the tips of her stocking-covered toes to the curves of her hips to the peaks of her breasts. Jess felt every look like a physical touch and when he pushed up her legs to bend them at the knee, she didn’t have the will to protest, much less the ability.
He spread her knees to kneel between them, his body heat an exquisite caress. Running his hands under her thighs and bottom to her lower back, he pulled her up to straddle him.
“Oh!” She grabbed at his shoulders to steady herself, suddenly conscious of the rigid length of his arousal against her.
It was as if he’d seen the knowledge in her eyes. “Relax, darling. I haven’t finished tasting you.”
She swallowed. In this position, she was completely at his mercy. But he didn’t tease, instead gave her exactly what she wanted by dipping his head and taking her nipple into his mouth. The hard suction tugged low and deep inside of her, tempting her, taunting her.
Her fingernails dug into his shoulders, the flesh slick and hot under her skin. He was so unapologetically male that everything female in her reacted to him, softening, weakening…melting.
As a result, when he used his hands to ease her down onto the bed, she was lost enough to say, “Gabe, please.”
Swearing under his breath, he moved to drag off his briefs. But he returned to his position an instant later, his hands going under her thighs. “Wrap your legs around my waist.” The rawness of his voice was as much an aphrodisiac as the skin stretched tight over his cheekbones.
She did as he asked. And realized that her body was angled slightly upward, in perfect position for his claiming. Instinct screamed that the penetration would be deep, incredibly so. “Gabe,” she whispered. “It’ll be too much.”
“I’ll ease you through it.” He stroked his hand up her body to curve over her breast and though his words were calm, his eyes were anything but.
She had the feeling he was hanging on by a very thin thread, the pulsing length of his erection a physical mark of desire against the sensitive skin of her inner thigh. A small part of her feared the intensity of him, but that part was buried under the crushing force of her own need.
Gripping her bottom, he nudged at her with that length of hard, hot flesh. Lightning sizzled up her body and when he pushed in, she screamed. But Gabe was true to his word, easing his way into her so slowly she thought she’d go mad. He touched places inside of her that no one had ever touched, bringing intense pleasure.
And no pain.
“I’m damn glad you’re a rider, Jess,” he almost growled as he filled her, going so deep that she could feel his heartbeat in her body.
Not aware enough to understand what he was referring to, she squeezed intimate muscles around him in a reaction as old as time itself. Throwing back his head, he tightened his hold on her and began to move. His rhythm was fast, his strokes deep. She screamed and screamed as he pushed her over the edge in a tempest of hot breaths and powerful thrusts.
And when she fell, it was as a marked woman. Gabriel Dumont’s woman.
Jess felt raw, exposed. He’d shattered her, claimed her passion and left her powerless. And she’d let him. Begged him. Now that the haze of desire had faded to reveal harsh reality, she couldn’t accept or understand the depth of her capitulation.
He wasn’t supposed to be the man who made her yearn!
It felt as though she’d given up her dream in that bed…given up Damon. Every time she’d felt pleasure, every time she’d screamed, she’d betrayed the love that had lived in her heart for a lifetime. And she didn’t understand how that could have happened. Gabe wasn’t the kind of man she could ever love. She wasn’t even sure she liked him.
Sliding quietly out of bed, she pulled on the first thing that came to hand. Unfortunately, it was Gabe’s shirt. The scent of him was in the fibers, on her
