“Stop that.” She squeezed her thighs together, trying to banish the sensations evoked by his tongue on her toes. “Talk, or I really am going to get out of the tub.”
He released her foot, his expression changing. “Okay. Look, about last night. I’m sorry. I backed off, and I had no reason to.”
He had every reason to and she knew why. “I’m a demon. I wouldn’t want me, either.”
“Would you let me talk?”
“Fine.” This was pointless. And she still couldn’t believe she was sitting naked in the tub with him.
“I’ve tried to keep my distance from you.”
She cocked a brow.
“Yeah, I know. Let me finish. I wanted to give you space to deal with what happened in Italy, but it was more than that.”
“I know.”
His lips curled. “No, you don’t know.”
“I do. It’s okay. You have no idea what you’d be dealing with. Before, on the yacht in Italy, when we made love, you thought you were making love to a human. Now, you know you’re not.”
“What?”
“I’m a demon. I could …well, who knows what I could do in the throes of passion, especially considering what’s been going on with me since we got here. The demon could come out when we’re in the middle of-”
“Did it last night?”
“What?”
“When I had you stretched out on the kitchen table last night, was it the demon writhing, moaning, and climaxing, Isabelle?”
Damn him for bringing that up, for causing heat to ignite as she remembered how it felt to be laid out on the table, to remember his hand and mouth on her and how he’d made her feel.
“Was it?” he pressed.
“No.”
“That’s right, it wasn’t.”
“Then why the hell did you stop?” She met his gaze evenly, refusing to look away, even though it embarrassed her to ask the question.
“Because I was afraid I’d go too far.”
That wasn’t at all the answer she’d expected.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Isabelle stared at Dalton, not sure what to say in response to his admission.
“I don’t understand.” She was being honest. She had no clue what he’d meant when he said he was afraid of going too far. Hadn’t they been headed as far as they could go last night?
“I’m no … angel,” he said.
“I never thought you were.”
He lifted his hands out of the water, dragged them through his hair. “I was trying to be noble, to give you time to heal, to figure out for yourself what was going on inside you. But I hadn’t counted on what I felt for you.”
Her breath caught and held, afraid of what he’d say, afraid he’d stop and not say it at all.
“And you kept pushing me, when you had those … demon moments, I’d guess you’d call them. But me stopping last night had nothing to do with you being part demon. Last night it was the human Isabelle I was with. And it’s when you’re human that you get to me, when I really want you. Because then it’s just you and me. And it’s a little too real.” His gaze was so direct, penetrating her defenses.
“Tell me, Dalton.”
“You light a fire inside me. Whenever I’m around you it burns high and hot. I backed away from you last night because I’m afraid of what will happen if I let it run wild. Sometimes it seems like there’s this darkness inside me, and that if I tap into it I’ll hurt you. I’m not afraid of you, Isabelle. I’m afraid of me.”
Stunned speechless, Isabelle was at a loss for how to respond. He wanted her. He wasn’t repulsed by her or her demon blood. Everything she’d thought had been wrong. To be able to see the passion in his eyes, to know it was for her, was astounding. She’d never felt that special to a man before.
She did now.
And he thought it would frighten her? Oh, hell no. If anything, his need for her, and his reluctance to give her everything, only strengthened her.
As soon as she wrapped her head around all that, she smiled at him.
“Dalton, I’m not at all afraid of you.”
He frowned. “You should be. You have no idea what I’m capable of doing.”
“You don’t know what I’m capable of doing, either. That makes us a pretty even match, don’t you think?”
His lips curled. “Maybe.”
“I’ve always wanted to feel close to someone but never allowed it. At first because of selfish reasons, and lately because of fear. Don’t you think I’m afraid of what I could do, what I could be?”
“You’re safe with me, Isabelle.”
“But are you safe with me?”
“I can take care of myself.”
She believed he could. If anyone could, it was Dalton. “I need to be close to someone, to feel alive, to feel … human. I need to feel as if someone cares for me. And if that caring is only sex, I can handle that.”
“I don’t know what I can offer you beyond this moment,” he said.
She nodded. “Nor do I. But I can tell you that I’m strong enough to handle you. And that I want you, no matter how out of control you think you’ll get.”
She’d never been so nakedly honest with anyone in her life. It was scary as hell and exhilarating at the same time. It left her shaky, her skin prickling with need.
Isabelle pushed off the side of the tub and stood, bubbles sliding down her skin. “I’m getting all pruny in here. How about we take this conversation somewhere else?”
The heat in his gaze seared her. He started at her knees, his gaze lifting upward, devouring her body with his hungry gaze. When he reached her face, she actually blushed. Dalton’s eyes went dark, his intent oh, so clear. He stood, and now it was her turn to look as he stepped out of the tub.
“We’ve done enough talking.” He scooped her up in his arms, lifted her out of the tub, and took her into his bedroom. He jerked the quilt and sheet to the end of the bed, then laid her in the middle of it, coming down on top of her.
Skin-to-skin contact. The shock and utter bonfire consumed her. But he didn’t give her time to even breathe before his lips covered hers in a demanding kiss that told her in no uncertain terms that she’d better be ready to accept what was going to happen between them, or let him know now, because this time there’d be no stopping.
She so didn’t want to stop. Not with the barely leashed passion that roared inside Dalton, ready to burst to the surface. She felt it in the tension of his muscles as she smoothed her hands over his shoulders, down his arms. She held on to him as he surged against her, letting her feel how much he wanted her. She arched upward, letting him know she wanted him as well, because she couldn’t speak-his mouth was doing delicious things to hers, capturing her, mesmerizing her, his tongue licking at hers, rasping its velvet softness in silent demand.
Whatever he wanted, she would give. She had so much to offer it was almost painful. It was frightening and exhilarating, this temptation to bare her soul to Dalton. Part of her wanted to hold back, but she had a hot man in her arms, a demanding man who would take no less than everything. That’s what she intended to give him.
He lifted his head, stared down at her, his gaze as demanding as his body moving against hers. “Are you sure this is what you want?”
“How can you ask that? I’ve been trying to seduce you since the moment we got here.”
His lips curled, and he bent, kissing the pounding pulse point of her neck, then licked her until she shivered. “Be careful what you wish for, Isabelle,” he murmured against her ear before gently biting her earlobe. “You might just get it.”
She tangled her fingers in his hair and pulled, forcing him to look at her. “So far you’ve been all talk, Dalton. Let’s see what you’ve got.”
He laughed, the rumbling sound full of promise. He grasped her wrists in his hands, spread her arms wide, then used his knee to kick her legs apart before climbing up to his knees, devouring her with his gaze. He lifted her arms above her head and held her wrists together with one hand, using his free hand to caress her hair, her cheek, her neck. She breathed through her mouth when his fingers went featherlight, teasing between her breasts, skiing up and down the valley between the two globes. His touch sent rivers of sensation between her breasts and straight down between her legs. She tried to squeeze her legs together, anything to intensify the feeling, but his body was in the way.