The sound of running water from within had her fighting for her composure, but she hadn’t quite found it yet by the time Rylan’s footsteps announced his presence. She stiffened without meaning to, unable to stop the way she flinched at a warm hand on her arm.
Rylan was silent for a moment, and it gave her time to breathe. Without crowding her, he stepped out onto the balcony, his chest not quite touching her back, his palm shifting to settle at her waist.
“Nice view,” he said, lips close to her ear.
“Yeah.” She hadn’t really taken it in yet, too busy letting her nervousness get the best of her. Eager for the distraction, she refocused her gaze on the world beyond their little room.
Sure enough, it was pretty. Much prettier than what she’d been able to glimpse through the tiny alley-facing window in her room at the hostel. They were only a few stories up, but that was high enough in a city like this. She looked out over the quiet street, at the shop fronts and stones and pavement, and then higher, toward the skyline in the distance, twinkling with lights against the gathering dusk.
He chuckled softly, sweeping her hair to the side. Pressing a kiss to the quivering skin of her throat. “I didn’t mean the city.”
And somehow, it was so like their first conversation in the coffee shop. Part of her was still adrift as her mind raced ahead to what would come next, but a different part sighed in relief as she got a little of her footing back. Relaxing her grip on the railing, she tipped her head to the side. “That line work on most girls?”
“It’s not a line.”
“Uh-huh.”
She could hear and feel his smile. He sidled up a little closer to her, moving slowly, as if to give her time to tell him no. When his body made contact with hers, something in her melted by a fraction, and then another, and then all at once she remembered why this had felt so easy before. With warm lips and just the barest hint of teeth, he took a nip at the lobe of her ear.
“It’s not a line if it’s true.”
How many times had she fallen for a man insisting he was telling the truth?
Taking a chance, she released her hold on the railing, and he wrapped her up in his arms. Kissing down to where her neck met her shoulder, he let his hips meet her backside. A whole other kind of tremor made its way through her body, a heat so intense it seared. He was hard. On instinct, she shifted her hips away, but he didn’t let her go.
As if he could sense the root of her anxiety, he murmured, “We don’t do anything you don’t want to do.”
She laughed and curled her hand around his forearm where it draped beneath her breasts. “It’s not a matter of want.”
“You want me to touch you?” His fingertips played with the hem of her top, and there was so much promise there.
Her breath stuttered. “Yes.” She squeezed her eyes shut tight again. “Only—”
His fingers and lips both paused. “Hmm?”
“I just—I don’t do this much.”
Slowly, he pressed another kiss to the side of her throat. “What? Have sex?” His lips drifted higher. “Or let yourself be seduced by a man you just met in the most romantic city in the world? Because if it’s the latter, I can’t say I’m shocked.”
Her laughter this time was easier and sadder, all at once. “I’ve gone all the way with exactly two people, and one of them was a pickup, and . . .” She didn’t really want to think about it. “. . . and that wasn’t much fun.”
She’d been into it enough, but they’d both been drinking, and it had all started moving too fast. When he’d gotten her onto all fours, she hadn’t been ready, and it hadn’t been horrible. But that was the best she could say.
The way Rylan held her shifted. It was still loose enough that she could get away at any second if she wanted to—she didn’t doubt that. But there was a possessiveness there. “If I ever make you feel like this ‘isn’t fun’—” He cut himself off and took a slow, deep breath before restarting. “I will never take anything from you that you don’t want, or before you’re ready to give it. There is nothing I want to do tonight but give you pleasure.”
She couldn’t help the twinge of doubt. “Nothing?”
“Nothing.” He swallowed. “It’ll be torture, but I’ll walk away right now if you tell me you’re not interested.” At some point, he’d pulled his hips back, but now the long line of him pressed against her rear again, not insistent or demanding at all. Just there. “Make no mistake about it. I want you. Badly. But that’s all secondary to what you want. If you never touch me but still let me make you come . . .” Trailing off, he ran her hand down her side. “I promise I’ll be satisfied.”
She opened her eyes. What was this man doing to her?
Even with Aaron, sex had never been fun. He’d had a good enough time, but she’d never managed to get him to understand what she needed him to do. He’d never asked.
And now Rylan was offering her all these things . . . And she wanted them. So much.
“I want to touch you.” Her voice came out whispery and low. “Only—can we . . . can we take it slow?”
“As slowly as you want. I have just one request.”
Her stomach sank. “Oh?”
Taking a partial step back, he turned her around until they were standing before each other, eye to eye and face to face, and his gaze was burning. “Please. Kate.”
“Yes?”
“Please tell me you’ll at least let me taste you.”
chapter SEVEN
Kate’s breath caught in her throat. It wasn’t that she’d never had a man do that before. Aaron had tried a few times. It had been warm and wet, and mortifying. Mostly mortifying, though.
She’d never been so close to giving in and faking it already as she had been, lying there, waiting for him to get bored.
Heat rising in her cheeks, she played with a button on his shirt for something to look at. “You don’t have to.”
“I don’t have to do anything.” He ducked, giving her no choice but to meet his gaze. “And neither do you. But I want to.”
She shrugged. “It’s just never done much for me.”
“Then whoever was doing it wasn’t doing it right.”
“And you think you’ll do better?”
“I know I will.” With that, he took her by the hand and made to lead her off the balcony. “Come on.”
As she followed him into the room, he paused to close the door, drawing a pair of sheers over the glass but leaving the heavier draperies open. Squirming inside and uncertain what else to do, she faced the bed and took a deep breath.
He came up behind her, encircling her waist with his arms, just like he had out on the balcony. “Is this all right?”
“Yeah.”
Apparently, he was starting everything on established ground. “And this?” He smoothed her hair out of the way before kissing a longer, wetter line down the side of her neck. The soft scrape of teeth against delicate flesh made it all the better, and some of the stiffness left her limbs.
“Yes.”
He moved so slowly, sliding his lips across her skin. With one arm holding her flush against his chest, he brought his other one up. Warm fingertips dragged across her throat and along her collarbones, lingering there before drifting lower. He swept them down the valley of her breasts. At her navel, he turned his hand over and retraced the circuit, again and again, until the thrumming in her abdomen felt like a smoldering glow. She relaxed her arms. Let her head fall back against his shoulder.
“See?” His voice was a low rasp. “Isn’t that nice? Don’t you like it when I touch you?”
She did, and the pit of heat flared, something clenching deep inside. “Yes.” And she should be touching him, too, shouldn’t she? She reached to wrap her palm around his thigh.
But he shhed her, brushing her overture aside. “Later, if you want. For now, just let me.”