“No. But I think you are currently overdressed.”
A laugh bubbled up. Sneaky, teasing angel. “Well, then, let me see what I can do about that.” Trembling, she reached down, fisted the lapels of the hotel robe she’d donned after taking a shower and slipped the material from her shoulders. Hair cascaded into place, tickling her bare skin, and his body went taut.
“The rest, sweetheart.” A hum of arousal rose from him, luring her, always luring her. “Remove the rest.”
He wanted her naked, she realized. Vulnerable. His to do with as he pleased. Just then, she was utterly okay with that.
She hooked her fingers into the edges of her panties she’d bought in the gift shop, hesitated only a moment then pushed the tiny scrap down her legs. A conscious effort was required to straighten and hold her arms at her sides rather than hiding her curves. She was okay, but she was also nervous about his reaction.
“You are so beautiful, Annabelle. A work of art.” Slowly Zacharel rose to his haunches, wings stretching out behind him. He removed his robe and crawled to the edge of the bed.
Oh, baby. He was the work of art. Every inch of his body was cut by hard muscle and potent sinew. Skin stroked by the sun glowed with crushed diamond luminosity. But…the smudge of black on his chest, just above his heart, had spread, little rivers winding out of it in several different directions.
It wasn’t a tattoo, couldn’t be.
“Zacharel,” she said, concern for him overshadowing her desire.
“You and you alone have nothing to fear from me.”
He’d misunderstood her concern. “Zacharel…”
“Come here, sweetheart. Please.”
Sweetheart. How could she resist such an endearment? And the please? Yeah. Utterly helpless. They could discuss the smudge later.
Much later.
A step closer to him… Another… She paused. “I know this will be your first time. I don’t want you to worry if—”
“We will not have sex,” he said, the force of his determination a hard brush against her skin. “Not today.”
“But…why?” And was that whiny tone hers?
“When we are finally together, you will not fear me in any way.”
“But I’m not… I wasn’t—”
He waved his hand through the air even then crackling with tension. “I have considered this a lot. I have never done anything with a woman, but now I will do everything with you. And in the doing, we will build up to the sex.”
Uh, just what did “everything” encompass?
Okay, so, maybe she was a little scared. But that wasn’t going to stop her.
“I want you, Annabelle,” he said in a silky tone.
“I want you, too.” An achy whisper.
“Then come the rest of the way.”
Another step, and another…until he was able to wrap his wings around her and urge her the rest of the way. The feathers tickled her in the most delicious way, softer than silk, more decadent than fur.
As if he couldn’t help himself, he pressed his lips to hers, feeding her a soft, decadent kiss of comfort she would never forget.
“I like this,” he said.
“Yes.”
“I think I will like the rest even better.”
Her heartbeat quickened. “Let’s find out.”
“If you’re sure…”
“I am.”
Zacharel guided her backward and rolled her over, then positioned himself between her legs.
In the ensuing hours…days…maybe weeks…he explored every inch of her, slowly, diligently. He learned her. Nothing was taboo, nothing was wrong. All she could do was cry out at the incredible pleasure. He was hesitant at first, careful with his hands, his caresses soft. But that soon changed, his grip becoming stronger as he kneaded her breasts…as he explored lower.
He used his fingers…and she realized she could do something more than cry out at the pleasure. She could writhe. She could claw at his back, drawing blood.
“Sorry,” she managed to gasp.