Still as dark, still as full of sexual intent . . . but holding an undertone of sensual amusement.
Shuddering under the intimacy of the caress, she blew out a breath. “Yeah, I did.” She went to flip over onto her back, but he read the tension in her muscles faster than she could move, holding her in place with a single hand on her hip.
“No fair,” she murmured, dropping her head. “I"m not as strong.”
Who said anything about playing fair?
She laughed, feeling as if her skin was stretching to accommodate the sexual energy within.
“Are you planning to take off my pants anytime soon? I"m burning up.”
Another lushly intimate caress. “I can feel your dampness through your clothing.” His voice dropped, became impossibly more sensual as his fingers pushed upward. “I"ll lick you here.”
The stark statement of intent had fire burning across her cheeks.
“A blush?” A tug at the back of her pants, and suddenly, the material was gone, her skin bared to his gaze. “A blush all over.” He traced the scalloped edges of her panties high on her thighs.
“Pink,” he murmured, “with blue ribbon. Your favorite pair.”
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Her blush felt like it would eat up her whole body. “I didn"t realize you paid so much attention to my clothing.”
“Certain pieces hold my interest.” That sensual amusement was back, his finger tracing the ribbon across her buttock and along her hip. “Such heat under your skin. Surely you"re not shy now?”
She couldn"t speak, too focused on the mouthwateringly masculine strength of his body, on the way he was touching her, as if he had all the time in the world, as if there was no impatience in him. “Raphael.”
“I like the sound of my name on your lips.” His hand closed about her thigh as he widened her stance even more. This time, she didn"t resist, even in play, wanting to entice him to go faster.
When he cupped her, it was all she could do to suck in a few gasping breaths. The sheets blurred in front of her eyes as he shaped the fabric of her panties to her, parting her through the soaked material as if it didn"t exist. “Hurry.” It was a whisper.
But he heard. No.
Her flesh dampened even more for him, a rush of liquid flowing to the juncture of her thighs.
She went to squeeze them instinctively tight, but he stopped her with one knee on the bed, his leg pushing against her thigh. She felt the bed dip as he shifted fully onto it, mirroring her position—except he kept that thigh between hers, his left hand palm down beside hers, while his right reached beneath to mold her breasts, her wings caught in between.
She expected it to hurt, but her wings fell into graceful lines, as if the knowledge of carnal pleasure was imprinted on her very muscles. And the sensation . . . Every feather, every fine filament was attuned to the powerful male heat of his body. “It"s too much,” she said, trying to pull away.
He held her in place. “You"ll get used to it.”
Frustrated, needy, she rubbed against the ridge of his arousal. Behave, hunter. Raphael pinched her nipple just enough to spark a wildfire inside of her.
Crying out, she bucked against him. When that didn"t work, she followed instinct and dropped to her front, twisting over and onto her back before he could stop her. Legs tangled awkwardly with his, she looked up at an immortal who had a very human possessiveness burning in his gaze. “Enough,” she whispered.
He shifted so that she could free her legs, but shook his head. “No.”
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He spread his wings above her, his entire frame burning white-hot. It dazzled, overwhelming her senses. But she couldn"t, wouldn"t, close her eyes, fascinated by the unearthly beauty of him.
Dangerous, he was so very dangerous. But he was hers. Raising her hands, she pressed them against his chest.
An unadulterated adrenaline rush.
His eyes met hers, the whites eclipsed by blue. She should have been afraid, but she was in too much need to feel anything close to fear. “Raphael.” It was a plea and a demand in one, her body moving in sinuous welcome.
Leaning down, he pressed his lips to hers at last, kissing her with a slow, almost primal intensity that had her stroking her hands up to his shoulders, trying to pull him down. But he continued to hold himself above her, closing his teeth over her lip when she insisted.
The contained power behind that steely frame was magnificent, a storm she could taste in the intensity of his kiss. Need twisted inside her, a clawing, voracious hunger. Gripping his shoulders, she threw her leg over his . . . and moved one hand in a slow glide over the arch of his wing.