“Thank you,” she said awkwardly. “I think.”
“You're welcome,” he replied.
For a long moment, they just stared at each other, smiling. He held out his hand. “Come here.” His eyes were full of hot invitation.
She glanced down at the amazing size of his erection. He intercepted the glance and did not try to misunderstand. “Don't worry,” he said. “I'll make it better for you. I won't hurt you this time.”
She extended her hand. “If it's any better for me, I'll burst into flames on the spot.”
He seized her hand and pulled her until she sprawled across the whole length of him. The hot shock of contact made her gasp with pleasure. She pushed herself up onto her knees, straddling his muscular thighs, and studied the details with greedy eyes and hands.
He was a banquet, a treasure trove, a sensual delight. His golden body was lightly furred by silky dark hair that lay fiat and glossy against his skin. She didn't know what to touch first
He propped himself onto his elbows and watched as her hands skimmed over him. His jaw was taut and vibrating with tension, his penis jutted proudly up against his belly. She trailed her fingers over the curves and hollows of his throat. Even his neck was thick and powerful. She petted the heavy muscles of his shoulders, her hands sliding across curves and contours, dips and bulges, the delicate tracery of vein and tendon. His body was hard and wiry, perfectly proportioned, beyond her most extravagant fantasy of the ideal male body.
She could not get enough of it.
She splayed her hands against the broad expanse of his chest, leaned over and kissed his flat brown nipples, letting her hair pool across his body. He made a low, tortured sound in his throat and started to sit up, but stopped himself, falling down onto his back with a groan. He grasped her waist, almost spanning it with his long fingers which slid over her belly, her ribs, tenderly stroking the underside of her breasts with a deliciously light, tickling touch. She followed his example with her own fingertips, brushing them across his chest, smoothing the dark hair that arrowed down to a point at his navel where his penis lay, stiff and rigid. She hesitated for a long moment and then grasped his shaft with both hands. It was hot and hard, the soft skin sliding beneath her hands, as smooth and velvety as suede.
He gasped, and swiftly covered her hands with his. “Bad idea.”
“Why?” Her position, poised over him, gave her a pleasurable feeling of power, and she loved holding his penis; all that pulsing energy trapped in her two hands was wildly exciting. She gave him a bold, stroking caress, her thighs tightening instinctively around his.
His hands clamped down, immobilizing her. “Because I promised it would be better for you this time, and if you tease me, I'll lose it.”
She smiled at him. “But what if that's what I want? For you to lose it? It sounds exciting.”
Seth pried her hands away from his cock and trapped both her wrists in one big hand. “Too bad,” he said flatly.
She tugged at her hands, but they might as well have been locked in a steel manacle. “Are you always this bossy?”
“Yes “ he said, his face implacable. “Get used to it.”
She yanked ineffectually at her hands. “Give me my hands back,” she pleaded. “You're beautiful. I want to touch you some more.”
“No. I don't trust you.”
His words were light in tone, but something dark and cold suddenly yawned between them. Her teasing smile faded. She stopped tugging at her hands. They stared at each other, somber and cautious.
Raine took a deep breath, and broke the heavy silence. “You can, you know.”
“Can what?” His eyes were cool, watchful.
“Trust me “ she said.
His mouth hardened, and a tiny muscle pulsed in his jaw. His hand tightened painfully around her wrists, and she gasped in alarm.
“Don't go there,” he said flatly. “I'm having a good time. Don't ruin it.”
“Why would trust ruin it?” He did not reply, but slowly let go of her hands. She rubbed her aching wrists, and gently persisted. 'Tell me, Seth. Why can't you—”
“Drop it.” He yanked her down against his chest and rolled her over, pinning her beneath him. His face was frozen, but his eyes were like pits of fire, burning with inexplicable rage.
She gazed up at him, shocked and bewildered. “But I—”
“Let... it... go.” His voice was soft, but it sent chills through her entire body. “Right now. Or else.”
She knew this was important, dangerously important, but she dared not push it. She, of all people, knew a stone wall when she hit one. If she pushed him he was going to get furiously angry.
Raine did not know this man at all. And he was very big and strong, and fully aroused, and she was lying underneath him, stark naked
She did not want him furiously angry with her.
“All right,” she whispered.
The coiled tension in his body relaxed, almost imperceptibly. He shifted against her, lifting off enough of his weight so that she could breathe. They stared at each other, afraid to speak.
He was hiding something behind the rigid mask of his face. She read it in his eyes. An aching loneliness that spoke directly to her own.
Something turned over in her chest, sweetly painful. She pried her arms out from where they were pinned between their bodies. She cradled his face in her hands, stroking the harsh, angular lines of his jaw and cheekbone. She slid her fingers through the silky black brush of his hair and pulled his face to hers in a burst of tenderness, covering it with soft kisses; his cheek, his jaw, the corner of his mourn.
Her impulse was to soothe and comfort, but it had the opposite effect. Heat flared inside him, like a flame leaping when gasoline was thrown upon it. His arms tightened, and his mouth slanted hungrily across hers, his tongue thrust into her mouth. The hot brand of his penis swelled against her stomach, prodding her. She responded, softening and opening even as she braced herself for the stinging discomfort of penetration.
He wrenched himself suddenly up and off of her with a low curse, turning his back and sitting on the edge of the bed. “God, you are dangerous,” he muttered hoarsely. “You keep driving me to the brink.”
Raine pulled herself up onto her knees. “Sorry,” she said, in a small, careful voice.
He twisted around and looked at her, his eyes sweeping the length of her body. He shook his head, passing his hand roughly over his face. “Listen carefully,” he said. “Ground rules for the next round are, you keep your hands to yourself, and make believe my cock doesn't exist until I tell you otherwise. Got it?”
She gazed at him, bewildered. “What am I supposed to do, then?”
His grin flashed, brief and ironic. “Nothing,” he said. “You let me keep my promise. You let me touch you and pet you and go down on you and make you come, over and over.”
“Oh,” she said in a tiny voice.
He reached out and cupped one of her breasts. “Yeah,” he went on softly. “And then when you're liquid and shivering and boiling hot—” his hand slid down over her belly, then lower, “—when you're writhing and begging me, when you've forgotten your own name, then we'll try this again. Then you'll see how well we fit together.”
“Oh,” she said inanely. Her heart thudded heavily in her chest
His fingers tangled themselves tenderly into the curls between her legs. He slid his hand lower and pushed her thighs apart. “Put your arms around my neck,” he breathed into her ear.
She did as he asked, quivering. She already knew how this would play. He would strip her bare, and watch her with that calculating glitter in his dark eyes as he pushed her over the cliff, utterly in command of himself and of her.