slipped from his face. “If I kiss you, Carley, I can’t guarantee I’ll be able to stop.”
“I really want you to kiss me,” she whispered, watching him with eyes that were wide with anticipation mixed with the faintest tinge of fear.
He wanted to take the fear away. He wanted her to look at him with anticipation mixed with lust. He decided there was only one way to fix the situation.
He reached out and slid his fingers into her soft blonde hair. She automatically lifted her chin. He wrapped the other hand around her waist, and then gently pulled her to him, until they were not quite touching. He bent his head and brushed one of those almost painfully innocent kisses across her sweet, lush lips. He wanted to devour those lips, but he needed her fear to be erased first.
He was rewarded when she parted her lips slightly and a faint sigh escaped. Her eyes fluttered closed, and she instinctively leaned forward, silently asking for more. Her body melted against him. She wanted this. He leaned in and gave it to her.
He pressed his lips against hers, let his tongue flick out to tease her plump bottom lip. She automatically opened her mouth and he licked his way inside. She tasted like wine and magic and need. She tilted her head and pressed closer, her own tongue tentatively touching the tip of his.
The hand tangled in her hair closed into a fist as he struggled with his own self-control. He needed to go slow, for her sake, and it was killing him, because all he wanted to do was tear off those leggings—while leaving the sexy as hell knee-high boots on—and lift her onto the counter and take her with an urgency he hadn’t felt since he was a youngling experiencing his first sexual encounter.
The problem was, she responded to him so wantonly, she was more enticing than any female he’d ever bedded before. She was completely open, utterly honest. She let him take the lead, but made it abundantly clear when she liked something he did. And so far, she liked everything he liked.
When he took the chance and lifted his hand to brush it across her breast, she thrust out her chest and pulled him yet more tightly against her body. He tugged his other hand out of her hair and dropped it to squeeze her ass. And was rewarded when she mocked his movement with her own hands.
“Carley,” he mumbled against her throat. She’d tilted her head and let her hair fall to the side, giving him full access to the curve of her neck. He nipped gently. “I want you.”
She made an erotic noise in her throat, not quite a word.
“Bedroom?” he suggested as he scraped his teeth over the shell of her ear.
She mumbled something incoherent, but did not stiffen, yet he did not want to assume he had her assent. He needed her to say it. She had obviously been violated at some point in her past, and he did not want her to associate his intentions with that experience.
He kissed a trail from her ear, down her neck, and up to her lips, against which he murmured, “Tell me, Carley.”
“Yes.”
It was the sweetest word he’d ever heard uttered. He swept her into his arms and carried her down the hall to his bedroom. She curled into him, one arm holding tightly to his neck, the other clutching his shirt, while she burrowed her face against his chest.
He walked over to the bed and laid her down on her back. She immediately tensed. He felt her close up on him, as if he could sense her emotions. Her eyes were wide as she stared up at him. He dropped to his knees next to the bed, an attempt to be less intimidating.
“Talk to me, Carley. What am I doing wrong?”
She twisted her head to the side. “Nothing. I just…It’s just…I thought I could forget,” she whispered as tears welled in her big blue eyes.
“Is it the bedroom? The bed? We can go into the living room. Or back to the kitchen. What do you need?” Anything . It wasn’t even about the promise of impending sex. He wanted her to feel safe. To trust him.
He watched her face