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“Wine, please. I’m thirsty.”
He poured two glasses and handed her one. His hand grazed hers, and she inhaled sharply. Their gazes met and held. Hand trembling, she brought the wine to her lips, barely tasting it. The hunger she saw in the way he watched her was unmistakable and mirrored her own. The danger and tension of the night had built inside her, and she needed a way to let it out. That was it. That had to be the only reason she wanted him again.
She didn’t know if he took the wineglass from her hand or if it fell to the floor. She only knew she needed him, needed to touch him, taste him, feel his hands on her. Their bodies collided in mutual need.
She drank him in, moaning as his lips slanted over hers and shivering as his hands roved over her body. She yanked at his coat, eager to remove it, to touch bare skin. He yanked at her clothing, his mouth searing her skin as soon as he bared it.
His need was as great as hers. And though she understood their clawing of hands at clothing and tangling of tongues was a natural response, it didn’t feel like merely a reaction to her. She wantedhim,Tristan, not any man.Him.
They were both bare to the waist by the time they surfaced for air. His touch was rough on her sensitive skin, and she raked her hands down his back, making his muscles bunch.
“I want you,” he said.
“I want you more.”
He lifted her and carried her into his bedchamber, dropping her none too gently on the bed, then coming down over her. In between kisses he divested her of her boots and trousers, then kissed a path from her breasts to her navel. She couldn’t catch her breath, couldn’t stop moaning. He shoved her legs open, his mouth nipping at the tender flesh of her inner thigh. She was already quivering for him. When his mouth touched her, she bucked in response, her body wound so tightly she knew it would take very little to bring her to climax. His tongue lapped at her, teased her tight bud, and she came apart. She was still in the throes of pleasure when he flipped her onto her stomach. He pulled her hips up, then had to pause to unfasten his trousers.
Alex tried to flip back over.
“No.” He pushed her back down. “I want you like this.”
She kicked out and flipped over anyway. “And I want to look at you.”
“I told you I won’t be dominated.”
She gave him a look she hoped appeared innocent. “I’m lying on my back with you towering over me. That’s hardly dominating you.” She reached out and unfastened his trousers. “Besides, I want to see you again.”
His gaze was wary, but he gave in, shoving his trousers over his hips. He was beautiful, and it was no lie that she’d wanted to see him again.
He covered her with his body, his flesh hot and hard and as tight as her own had been a few moments before. He grasped her wrists in one hand and yanked them up, effectively imprisoning her. She allowed it, but arched her hips to tease him. He groaned, and his mouth captured hers. He kissed her deeply and with such passion that it took her breath away. And then he was inside her, making her gasp with pleasure and surprise.
He wasn’t the patient lover he’d been earlier that night. This time he moved hard and fast, and she urged him on, matching his thrusts and the rhythm he set. He broke from the kiss and stared down at her, his eyes dark and intense. She freed her hands from his grip and slid them up the tense muscles of his arms, down his chest, and back up again, fastening her hands behind his neck.
“I. Can’t. Hold. Back,” he ground out, jaw clenched tightly.
“I don’t want you to.” She lifted her hips, taking him deeper, and he groaned. And then suddenly he was gone, pulling away to spill his seed outside her.
He crashed down beside her, dipping the bed so she slid against him. She draped a leg over him and kissed the stubble on his jaw.
“I didn’t mean to be such a brute.”
“I liked it,” she murmured. “I should put you in danger more often.”
He laughed. “No, thank you.”
She lay in his arms for a few moments, listening to his heart slow back to its normal pace. She wanted to do it all again, this time slowly and leisurely. Instead, she gritted her teeth and sat up. “I have to go.”
“I know.”
She was glad he hadn’t argued. She did not want to leave, and if he protested it would only make her departure more difficult. She rose and dressed, conscious that he watched her with an appreciative eye. “You seem to always be leaving me.”
“I’ll be back.” She opened the bedroom window and sat on the sill. She would have to pull herself up to the roof, then make the long trek back to her house.
He rose and put his hands on her waist. It was a sweet, caring gesture. She longed to fall back into his arms.
“Be careful,” he said.
“Always.”
