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He chuckled. "When Benjamin flies through the air with such ease, I wonder if the angels carry us. "
I couldn't help but snort. I'd never been one to believe in such things.
"In truth," he continued, "animals with white coats are best for performances like mine because the chalk I use on my feet, which helps me keep my balance, doesn't show. If you ever go to a circus, you'll notice the ring stock is usually white, perhaps gray. "
His hands, which had rested lightly at my waist, holding me safely astride, slipped around to rest on my stomach. I forgot all about white horses and magic.
When he leaned forward, his breath brushed my ear. I shivered, and not from the slight mist that had begun to swirl in off the lake.
His lips pressed against the curve of my neck, taking a bit of me between his teeth, gently nibbling, sucking. The sensation was glorious, both sharp and tender, causing my body to tremble against his.
Benjamin shifted and I jumped, but Cartwright soothed me with soft murmurs and gentle touches until I quieted along with the horse.
My head fell back against his shoulder, and I stared at the slice of sky visible through the tall canopy of trees - navy blue punctured by glistening sparkles of white and the silver sheen of a rising moon covered with mist.
His fingers traced my rib cage, my collarbone; my blouse gaped open. How had he gotten the buttons undone so fast?
I didn't care, enjoying the drift of the night along my heated skin. His palms cupped my breasts through the bra, and my nipples tightened as he rubbed the center of his hand against them in slow, firm circles.
"This is crazy," I whispered. "Anyone could see. "
"Everyone is watching the show. "
For an instant I thought the show was us, then I heard the distant music, a smattering of applause, and I understood what he meant. We were alone in the forest. Just him and me.
And Benjamin.
"Tell me what you want. "
His thumbs and forefingers rolled my nipples through the fabric and I moaned. I would have been mortified if I hadn't been so aroused that I had no room to feel anything else.
His breath warmed my ear; his tongue flicked the lobe. "Where shall I touch you? How hard?" His thumbnail flicked the tip of one breast. "Or how soft?" His forefinger ran gently across the swell of the other. "Anything you want of me, Claire, you've only to ask. "
I wanted to see him. To touch the chest he'd displayed beneath the harsh fluorescent lights. But I couldn't find the words, so I shifted until we were face-to-face.
He steadied me, settling my knees over his thighs, unbuttoning the last few buttons of his shirt when I tugged at them, murmuring nonsense words to the horse when the animal shuffled nervously.
I couldn't tear my gaze from the angles and planes of his chest. The moonlight sprinkled through the trees, sparkling like fairy dust across his earring. Shadows scampered along his skin. I wanted to trace them with my tongue.
His flesh was cool from the fog that crept around us yet warm with the blood pulsing beneath. I scored his collarbone with my teeth, flicked his nipple with my tongue, caught the scent of the lake either on his skin or in the air, and licked him, just to see.
He tasted of both summer and winter; I wanted to rub my face against him and remember his flavor, his scent, forever.
He leaned back, his neck bowed, face open to the night, and let me do whatever I wanted.
Most men would have been unable to keep themselves from touching me, from grabbing my head, showing me what they wanted, forcing my mouth down, down, down until -
I sat up. Hell. I needed to keep my mind on this man, this moment, no other.
His skin glistened with the moisture left by both my mouth and the mist. His black pants were tight, tighter still at the juncture of his thighs.
"Do you want to touch me?"
My gaze lifted. His eyes were so dark, with just a tiny speck of silver, a reflection of the moon, at their center.
"Not" - I swallowed - "yet. "
"May I touch you?"
