“Annabelle.”
“My eyes,” she whispered. “You hate the taint of them.”
He belonged in the depths of hell for saying such a thing. “They are lovely.”
“But you said—”
“A mistake. Difficult as it is to imagine, I make them, too.”
“All right.” A pause, then her lids parted, and those beautiful blues were peering at him.
“Thank you.”
At last she settled against him, and he felt her mouth curl into a grin. “Welcome.”
“I’m going to put my arms around you,” he said. When she offered no protest, he fit action to word.
A delicate sigh left her. “So…what are we doing?”
“Taking a moment to enjoy each other.” He traced his fingers along the ridges of her spine. “At least, I am. Are you?”
“Yes. I— Your heart is pounding,” she said, sounding surprised. Her ear rested directly over the pounding beat.
“Only you have that effect on me.”
“Well, we’re even, then.”
Minutes passed, perhaps hours. Every new second was a rapturous torture. He breathed her in, happily drowning in her heat, and he vowed to stay like this all night if that was what she preferred—but to his delight she began to move against him, urging him to do…something. The tips of her fingers traced the ridge of his navel.
“Zacharel?”
He released her to reach up and grab the headboard. “I will not let go.” Not this time, no matter how badly he wanted to touch her. “You will control everything, just as you wished.”
Still she hesitated.
“I mean it. Even if I break the bed apart, I will not let go of this railing. Not until you tell me otherwise.”
“You are so on your A game right now.” She lifted to her knees, straddled his waist and settled against him. The exquisite pleasure-pain of the sensation had him sucking in a breath.
If only he could will his robe away…
Down, down she leaned.
“Kiss,” she said. Her mouth claimed his, her tongue sliding past his teeth to duel with his tongue. And oh, the sweetness of her taste intoxicated him far more than anything else.
For a long while, she alternated between kissing him and pausing to look at him, as if judging his control. Whatever she saw in his expression always managed to reassure her, because she would dive back in for another helping.
He wasn’t sure how he managed to hide the force of his arousal from her. He felt like a rubber band pulled too tight, ready to snap at any moment. What could he do to propel her to that point? Move against her, as she had moved against him?
He shifted slightly, brushing against her—but that wasn’t nearly enough, and merely fueled his desire all the more. But…a groan escaped her, and then, oh, finally, blessedly then, she stopped taking time to look at him, stopped searching his face, and gave him a kiss that seared his soul, her mind seemingly as lost as his was.
Her fingers tangled in his hair, angling his head for deeper, better contact. On and on this new, hotter kiss continued, until they were biting at each other, moaning and groaning and saying incoherent things. He wanted more, so much more, and his muscles bunched and knotted from the strain of holding back.
Then she began to rock against him, her entire body rubbing, rubbing, rubbing against his. He was desperate to get closer to her, as close as a man could be with a woman. Wanted it, needed it so badly.
“Zacharel, I want… I need…”
Exactly want he wanted and needed, he prayed. “Anything. Name it, and I will give it to you.”
“Roll to your side.”
He obeyed in an instant, so that they were face-to-face, body-to-body. His every exhalation blended with her every inhalation, mixing their breath, making them one, even in so small a way.