require acknowledgement from her—her heart was beyond racing. It was damn near about to explode out of her chest.
But her hands wouldn’t remain still. Drawn to the light brown wash of his hair, she threaded her fingers through the short strands. In a certain light, she could see the shades of his eyes. Amber. Golden. That warm, liquid brown.
Her fingers moved easily through his hair. No styling products stiffened the strands. A little mussed. Never quite the same from day to day. He paid as little attention to his hair as he did to the other things he deemed inconsequential.
He glanced up, her fingers still thrust into his hair. “Are you afraid?”
“Terrified,” she admitted.
His gaze softened and he wrapped his arms around her body, pulling her into his embrace. The shock of her naked body against his still fully clothed one sent shivers up her spine.
“I’d feel less afraid if you were naked, though.”
He blinked in surprise and then he threw back his head and laughed. “You little tease.” He pushed upward to his feet until he towered over her. “I’m happy to accommodate you. More than happy to accommodate you.”
She licked over suddenly dry lips as he pulled away and began unbuttoning his shirt. He tugged the ends from his slacks and unfastened his cuffs before shrugging out of the sleeves.
She swayed precariously because oh, Lord, was the man mouthwateringly gorgeous. He was lean in an “I work out” way but he wasn’t so muscled that he looked like he got carried away with the fitness regimen. He was hard in all the right places without being a neckless, snarling, swollen, knuckles-dragging-the-ground caveman type.
A smattering of light brown hair collected in a whorl in the center of his chest and then tapered to a fine line that drifted down his abdomen and disappeared into the waist of his pants.
She wanted to touch him. Had to touch him. She curled her fingers until they dug into her palms and then she frowned. There weren’t rules to seduction, right? She could touch. No reason for her to stand here like a statue or an automaton while he did all the work. While taking things slow did have its good points, there was simply too much she wanted to experience to stand idly by while seduction happened. She wanted to take an active part.
He’d only began to undo his pants, when she slid her hands over his chest and up to his shoulders. He went still and for a moment closed his eyes.
His response fascinated her. Did her touch bring him as much pleasure as his touch brought her? A sudden rush of power bolted through her veins, awakening the feminine roar inside her.
She moved in closer, wanting to feel his naked flesh against hers. Hot. She gasped when her breasts pressed against his chest. It was an electric sensation that was wildly intoxicating. She wanted more. So much more.
“What are you doing?” he asked hoarsely.
“Enjoying myself.”
He smiled at that and remained still, his hands still gripping the fly of his pants. She ran her palms openly over his chest, exploring each muscled ridge, enjoying the rugged contrast between his hardness and the softness of her own body.
“Take them off,” she whispered when her hands drifted perilously close to where his hands were positioned.
“Has the blushing virgin turned temptress?”
On cue, she flushed but he smiled and then let go of his pants to frame her face in his palms. He kissed her, nearly scorching her lips off with the sudden heat. “You take them off me,” he murmured into her mouth.
Sudden nerves made her fingers clumsy as she fumbled with his pants, but he stood there patiently, his hands caressing her face, gaze locked with hers as she pushed his pants down his legs.
Swallowing, she chanced a look down to see his erection straining hard against the cotton of his briefs. Plain, boxer briefs. Somehow she’d imagined something a little more … She wasn’t sure. She just knew she hadn’t imagined plain boxer briefs but then he was a no-fuss kind of guy. Yes, he wore expensive clothing, but it was comfortable expensive clothing. The kind you only knew was expensive because you recognized the label. Not because it looked terribly pricey.
Simply put, Devon Carter looked like a man who’d made money but wasn’t overly concerned with appearing as though he was wealthy. It wasn’t as if he couldn’t look the part. She’d seen him in full business attire with the sleek designer labels and the polished, arrogant look to match. But she’d spent much more time with him privately. When he was relaxed. Less guarded. That was the word. In public situations, he was intensely guarded at all times. Almost as if he was determined to let no one in. It thrilled her that he trusted her enough to see his more casual side.
“Put your hand around me,” he coaxed in that low husky tone that had her melting.
Tentatively she slid her fingers beyond the waistband of his underwear and delved lower until she encountered the velvety hardness of his erection. Emboldened by the immediate darkening of his eyes, she curled her fingers around the base and slowly slid upward, lightly skimming along his length.
His hands left her face and he impatiently pushed his underwear down until he was completely nude, cupped in her hands as she gently caressed him.
Having nothing but stolen glimpses of elicit photos to compare him to, he seemed to measure up adequately in the size department. At least he didn’t look so huge that she feared compatibility issues.
He gently took her wrists and pulled her hands away from his erection. Then he pulled her hands up until they were trapped between them against his chest. His thumb lightly caressed the inside of her palm as he stared into her eyes.
“You, my love, are driving me slowly insane. It was me who was supposed to do the seducing and yet you utterly enslave me with every touch.”
She flushed with pleasure, her skin growing warm under the intense desire blazing in his eyes.
He kissed her again, and he pressed in close until he walked her backward toward the bed. He stopped when the backs of her legs brushed against the sumptuous comforter.
He wrapped his arm around her waist and lowered her back until she was lying on the mattress, him hovering above her.
His expression grew serious and he brushed her hair from her forehead in a tender gesture. “If at any time I do something that frightens you, tell me and I’ll stop. If at any time you simply want to slow down, just let me know.”
“Oh,” she breathed out. Because it was impossible to say anything else around the tightness in her throat.
She reached for him, pulled him down to meet her kiss. She felt clumsy and inept but it didn’t seem to matter to him. She wished she was more artful. More practiced. But she couldn’t wish for experience because more than anything she was glad she’d waited for this moment. For him.
“I love you,” she whispered, unable to hold back the words that swelled and finally broke free.
He went still and for a moment she was terrified that she’d effectively thrown a wet blanket over a fire. She drew away, eyes wide as she searched his face for something. Some reaction. Some indication that she’d breached
