Marcus stretched out his legs, deliberately taking his time to settle into a comfortable position. Making it about him and his wants. Taking the focus off her. She was strong enough to call him out if he’d guessed wrong, but he didn’t think he was.
“You ready for this?” he asked.
She shuffled from side to side slightly, getting her balance. Even breathing. In through the nose, out through her mouth. Every trick in the book to find her center.
“Game on,” she whispered. Gaze straight at his. Eyes focused on him.
How could a woman who was so strong be so willing to offer it all up? Marcus took control of himself and vowed he’d do whatever it took. Whatever it cost.
Because it was going to cost him—that much he knew for sure.
He glanced the length of her body. Assessing, weighing. When he met her gaze again, he spoke softly. “Undo your hair.”
Becki eased off the elastic she’d used to pull her hair back into a functional ponytail. She slipped the band into her pocket, then lifted her hands again, smoothing her fingers through the strands and fluffing it over her shoulders. The long tresses rested over her shoulders, slightly tousled, a lock falling over her forehead and into her eyes.
“Your top. Take it off. Slowly.”
Her laughter rippled across the room. “I’m not a very good dancer, Marcus. If you want me to swing my hips and give you a show, you’re going to be sorely disappointed.”
“Oh, I doubt that very much,” he said. “No dancing required. Undo your buttons, sweet Becki. One at a time. That’s it.” He followed her fingers with his gaze as she slipped the tiny pearl-white circles through the slits. “Every one you open reveals a little more of your skin. All the candlelight in the room reflects off you and makes it glow. I can see the edges of your bra cups now. Your breasts. It’s like a present being unwrapped before me.”
She was silent as she finished the final buttons, the front of her shirt gaping open so the light shone on her solid belly.
Her breathing wasn’t as even as it had been a few moments before.
Becki shrugged her shoulders and the gap widened. When the fabric finally came loose she let it fall to the floor at her feet.
Marcus stared hungrily at her, sure that what was in his gut showed on his face. Hoping it did. This was more than temporary desire, this was a need for her that was going to last his entire life.
“You’re beautiful. So strong, so powerful.” Becki undid the button on her pants as she smiled in response to his comment. He jerked her to a stop with a single word. “Wait.”
One brow rose. “I assumed you wanted me naked.”
“Don’t assume.” He stood and stepped in close enough that she could touch him without leaving her space on the floor. “My turn. Take off my shirt.”
She’d undressed him before, days earlier. That time she’d been blindfolded and he’d watched her fingers tremble as she moved. As she touched.
Now she stroked him with her gaze as well as her touch, and he hadn’t been prepared for how powerful the effect would be. Becki undid his belt, popped his button. Lowered the top notches of his zipper. That freed room for her to slip her hands under his T-shirt, fingertips cool against his heated skin. She stared into his eyes as she passed over his chest, thumbs skimming his nipples. When she pressed closer so she could reach behind him he took a deep breath, the seductive scent of her body lotion teasing his senses.
This playtime might be about what she needed, but damn if he wasn’t going to enjoy it as well.
CHAPTER 30
It was like being drugged. The edge blurred between reality and fantasy, and Becki embraced the sensation fully, planning to savour every second.
She caught hold of the bottom of his shirt in the back and tugged it upward. “Lean over,” she ordered, and he went willingly, bending and extending his arms over his head so she could drag the fabric all the way off.
Then she wasn’t sure where to look as he straightened. He’d mentioned the candlelight, and wow—he wasn’t kidding how the flickering glow made a huge impact on her senses. It was better than examining Greek statues in a museum. Every muscle was showcased in bold relief. The firm cuts defining his chest; the rigid lines that separated his lower abdomen into neatly packaged squares.
Becki peeked upward to discover that his eyes were still fixated on hers. Something about his complete attention made her cheeks flush with heat even as a deep need throbbed inside. Between her legs she grew wet, longing for more than glances and slow seduction.
She lifted his shirt, watching to see if he’d change his focus. The shirt slipped from her fingers to land on top of her abandoned clothes.
His gaze never flickered off her face, and the delicious sense of being totally enveloped by him increased. Becki eased back on her heels and allowed her hands to fall by her sides. Whatever was happening tonight, she would embrace it fully. If he wanted her to move, she’d assume he’d tell her so.
Marcus cupped her chin in his fingers and nodded. “Yes. Oh, yes, now you have it. Take off your pants, and when you’re done I’ll tell you what to do next.”
His declaration stroked her like a physical brush. She wanted to rush, to give in to the urgency to strip everything off and fall to the next task, but his voice beguiled her. Eased her. She slipped open the button and the zipper on her slacks and pushed them off her hips. They bunched around her ankles, and she was surprised when he held out his arm to her. She clutched his elbow tightly and, instead of bending to free herself, stepped forward out of the material.
The move brought them skin to skin, the thin fabric of her bra the only barrier between them.
“My jeans now, and everything else. Strip me, sweet Becki.”
His endearment made a shiver race up her spine. “I love how you say my name. Like I’m delicious, and you can’t get enough of me.”
She put her hands to his zipper and finished the task of lowering it. The clicking of the teeth separating echoed loudly in the hushed room. Smoothing her hands over his hips, pushing the material down, she knelt, keeping in contact with his body at all times. It would have been a moment’s work to remove his socks along with the jeans, but she hesitated. Drew out the motion. Let him balance on one foot then the other with her shoulder as an anchor as she removed every stitch of clothing from him.
She deliberately stayed on her knees as she tugged his briefs off, his erection snapping up between them as soon as she’d freed it from the confines of the fabric. The hard length rose from the dark curls at his groin, and she wanted to touch, to taste, but first, she waited.
The heat from the airtight stove draped around her like a blanket, the soft rug cushioning her from the hardwood floorboards. She rested on her heels and stared at his naked magnificence.
Waiting.
Marcus hadn’t once looked away. Every time she’d lowered her gaze to concentrate on her task, she’d returned to his face and discovered him watching. Tenderness in his expression. Hunger.
His call. His command. Tonight was his game, and she was eager to play it. All worries, concerns, dread had vanished to be replaced with nothing but rising passion and full concentration on this man.
“Touch me.” The words rasped out, barely audible. “Touch me, everywhere. At your pleasure. How you want. No demands, no agenda.”
His order wasn’t what she’d expected. She sat dumbfounded for a moment, recalibrating her brain.
He smiled, that corner teasing upward. The familiar expression gave her something to cling to as she switched gears. He shifted slightly on his feet, muscles flexing as he moved, and Becki stared mesmerized.