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Another pause before a whisper of material and her hand brushed a line of fire across his bare stomach. He drew in a sharp breath and tried to calm the heat that ate its way through him as she apologized in a husky voice.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t realize that you were… so close.”
Oh, he was close, all right. It would only take one stroke from her fist for him to shoot the moon. He gritted his teeth. “Lie down.”
“I’m not having sex with—”
“No, dammit! We arenothaving sex!” He didn’t know if he was yelling at her or himself. Thinking he had frightened her, he started to apologize, when she came right back at him.
“Well, how the heck do I know that? I’m naked!” He could feel the shift of air as her hands waved. “You’re obviously naked. And sex is usually what happens when two people are alone in a bedroom naked.”
He released a frustrated sigh. “Granted. But it’s not going to happen with us.”
“Why?”
He could’ve lied, but concealed by darkness, he chose not to. “Because then I wouldn’t be a fucked-up pervert. I’d just be a loser who has to pay for sex. Now please lie down.”
“Fine.”
The thump of butt to mattress made his anger leave, but none of his desire. Especially when he heard the wisp of skin against the satin of the duvet. He could picture her now. Seductively stretched out on the bed like he’d wanted the other night. But now she was naked. Completely naked. And all his.
He should’ve returned to the chair. He was too close. But maybe this would be the final test. If he could resist when a naked woman was only inches away, it would prove that he had control over his body.
And hers.
“Scoot over,” he said. “I’m not going to touch you. I’m just going to lie next to you.” He waited to hear her shifting before he lowered himself to the bed. The satin still held her heat. But rather than further ignite him, it calmed him enough that he was able to roll to his side and face her.
“Now I want you to close your eyes and touch yourself. And everywhere you touch, I want you to tell me what you feel… everything that you feel.”
CHAPTER SEVEN
It wasn’t his words that had Eden lying so rigid on the bed as much as his presence only inches away, like a tiger waiting to pounce. She knew he wanted to touch her—to gobble her up—and yet he held himself in check. Why? That was what she wanted to find out. And why she hadn’t turned on the flashlight she brought with her the moment she stepped into the door. Shining a light on him would’ve concluded that the Dark Seducer was Nash Beaumont. But illuminating his handsome features wouldn’t have told the entire story.
That’s what Eden wanted. She wanted the entire story behind why a billionaire would pay not to touch women. And she knew to get that story she would need to play his game. Except playing his game was dangerous. Because as scared as she was of being eaten by a tiger, she was also sexually excited by the prospect. More sexually excited than she’d been in her life. Her entire body tingled, from her tight nipples to the spot between her legs. Not just from the heat of his body, but also from his breathing. He wasn’t panting like a pervert. It was more a deep, controlled inhalation and exhalation that said he was turned on… and trying not to be.
While he was controlling his breathing, hers had stopped. Her breath hung in her chest as she waited for his first command. It came on an exhalation. More air than sound.
“Touch your breast.”
She could’ve pretended to do it, but somehow she knew he would know. So she did what he asked. She awkwardly rested her hand over her left breast. It felt strange touching herself when a man watched. And no matter how dark, she didn’t doubt for a second that he watched, his unusual-colored eyes cutting through the blackness to laser out her deepest secrets. A few seconds later, he proved her right.
“Don’t just touch it.” His breath fell warm against her ear. “Caress it. Test its weight.” He paused, giving her time to do what he asked. “Tell me how it feels.”
She awkwardly cupped and squeezed her breast, then tried to come up with words. It wasn’t easy. Her mind wasn’t on what she was doing as much as the man next to her. “I don’t know. It’s just a breast.”
His breathing stopped, and she had to wonder if she was about to get kicked out again. Instead, he spoke in barely a whisper. “Then let me tell you what it feels like. It’s like cradling the most precious of gifts… heavy and abundant as much as it is soft and delicate. When you hold a woman’s breast, you hold her heart in your hand, the beat thumping solid and strong against your palm. Can you feel the beat?”
Touching her breast hadn’t done anything for Eden, but his words did. Suddenly, she wasn’t the one cradling her breast. He was. He was just using her body as the instrument of his desire. Her hand started to move. A gentle squeeze. A slight lifting. A brush of fingertips over the soft skin underneath. She could feel her heart beating, its tempo strong and rapid as heat coiled in her stomach and spread out like warm tentacles to every part of her body.
“Brush your thumb over the nipple,” he continued. “Slowly. Gently.” She did and sucked in her breath as the coil of heat tightened. “That’s it.” He shifted closer, his breath fluttering the strand of hair covering her ear. “Feel the sweet bud. Pluck it. Tease it. Is it tight enough? Or can you make it tighter?”
She could make it tighter, and she did, her breathing becoming as labored and rapid as her heartbeat. She released a moan and wiggled against the slick satin of the duvet in an attempt to find release from the grip of sensual sensation.
“Where do you burn?” he asked.
“Everywhere,” she breathed.
“Everywhere? Show me. Touch the spots that burn.”
