Bound By Passion: No Desire Denied / One More Kiss / Second-Chance Seduction. Cara Summers
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СКАЧАТЬ ideas. But there was a world of difference between imagining something and actually doing it. In her daydreams she’d never had to deal with the effect of his gaze as it swept down her body. Flames licked first along the nerve endings at her throat, then flickered lower to the sensitive skin at the tops of her breasts. She sucked in a breath when she felt the fire reach her belly, then sear her legs right down to her toes. He was still fully clothed, and that made her remember her plan.

      Strip him. You can definitely do that. Just talk your way through it.

      Careful not to look directly into his eyes or at his mouth, she said, “I intend to seduce you, Reid. I wanted to do it in the gardens, but it may be a while before either of us is safe there.”

      Good. Words had always come easily to her.

      “You have too many clothes on.” She reached for the first button on his shirt and slipped it free. “Better.”

      She could do this.

      “Nell—”

      “Shh.” Tamping down on the impulse to meet his eyes, she concentrated on the second button and felt a spurt of triumph when she freed it. “You don’t have to say a word. You want to tell me that we both need our sleep if we’re going to find the necklace tomorrow. And you’re expecting that I’ll obey like the good little girl I was at six. But I’m not that girl anymore.”

      As if to emphasize her point to both of them, she ignored the last button, and in a move she’d dreamed of forever, she shoved the shirt down his arms so that it trapped his wrists at his sides. When he sucked in his breath, the thrill shot straight through her.

      Turning him, she placed a hand on his chest and urged him toward her bed. “Do you know how long I’ve dreamed of getting you out of your clothes?” The fast thud of his heart against her palm was rewarding, arousing. When she backed him into the side of the mattress, she slid her hand down his now-bare chest to his belt. Thrilled at his quick expulsion of breath, she lingered there, tracing her finger along the top of his waistband.

      “I wanted to do this on the day our parents were married.” Taking her time, she unfastened the buckle, then pulled the belt through the loops. Slowly. “I described the way I would strip you in one of the fantasies I wrote about you that night.”

      Moonlight streamed through the glass doors, highlighting all the planes and angles of the skin she’d exposed. She simply had to touch him again. Tossing the belt aside, she ran her hands from his waist to his throat. It wasn’t just the sight of him that fascinated her. She loved the contrast in their skin tones. His was tan; hers was pale. Pleasure sharpened at each response. The sound of his breath expelling when her nails scraped down over his nipples, the rapid hammer of his heart against her lips, the way her name caught in his throat when she unsnapped his jeans and slid the zipper down—each separate sensation thrilled her, enchanted her.

      “Nell...”

      The desperation in his tone was contagious. And it was all so incredibly good. Glorious. How had she managed to wait for so long? His hands rested on her shoulders, but without the strength that she’d felt before. Her confidence surged. “There’s more.” Impatient now, she shoved his jeans down over his hips.

      And there was more.

      Her gaze froze on silky black jockeys. The material was sheer and revealing. “I never imagined the full impact of being with you.”

      How could she? At eighteen, her experience had been limited. Now, she realized, it still was. There’d been no time to see him during that firestorm of desire at the side of the stone arch. No time to touch him. Craving tore at her. She’d take the time now.

      “Nice,” she murmured as she danced her fingers down the length of him.

      “Nell...”

      The word came out on a moan, delighting her and encouraging her to press her hand more firmly against him. “Very sexy. And we’re so compatible. Who would have thought?”

      Because her mind had begun to spin, she was having trouble thinking at all. She couldn’t stop touching him. Was it her imagination or had he grown even harder as she stroked her fingers up and down the length of him? “This... You...go beyond anything I dreamed of.”

      Her hands moved of their own accord, her fingers slipping beneath the waistband of his briefs. “I wrote about doing this.

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