His name was a plea. For mercy.
Or maybe, for the exact opposite.
And that was when she realized he understood her better than she did herself, because instead of letting up, instead of giving her a chance to catch her breath, he shifted his dangerous attention from one breast to the other.
The touch of his lips, his tongue, the dark stubble on his jaw, stroking across her untouched skin, sent another jolt of pure desire through her, head to toe, strong enough that she didn't know how her body was managing to hold it all inside without breaking apart.
She arched into his mouth to get closer, every cell in her body focused on three square inches. His jaw was covered in rough stubble and she loved the way it felt as it scraped and scratched against her skin.
And then his mouth was traveling up over the small curves of her breasts, across her collarbone, settling in the hollow. His tongue tasted her there, and it struck her that feeling Luke's kiss on her shoulder was one of the most erotic moments of her life, outranking every orgasm she'd ever had with anyone else.
She wanted to taste him too, wanted to run her hands and mouth over every inch of his beautiful body. But he was still holding her too tight.
She tried to pull herself out of his bonds and his hands tightened on her wrists.
He pulled his mouth away from her skin. His eyes were dark, dangerous.
“Don't fight me. Not tonight.”
It wasn't just the sensual spell he had wound around her or the look in his eyes that had her giving in. It was the fact that those five words, said in such a commanding voice, held not only more desire than she'd ever known, but also more pain.
Luke needed her.
She'd never been the kind of woman who looked for broken men to try and heal. But Luke wasn't just any man. He had always been special. Even when she wished he wasn't.
“Okay,” she whispered. “I won't.”
Pleasure flared in his eyes, but instead of his mouth coming down on hers again, hot and hard and hungry, he released her wrists and a moment later his strong, warm fingers were stroking her hair, the tops of her shoulders, the backs of her arms. Like a cat, she rubbed against his hands.
For how rough he'd been with her dress, considering how tightly he'd held her to him, now his touch was gentle. But still all-consuming.
And with the real world completely suspended on its axis for one night, it was the most natural thing in the world to look at him and say, “I've always thought you were so beautiful.”
But it wasn't enough to say it, she had to feel his beauty, had to get inside it, become a part of it. She raised her hands to his face, pressed her thumb to his lips, her other hand stroking the light stubble across his jaw. More words floated into her brain and she knew how good it would feel to say them aloud.
“I've wanted to touch you for so long, from the first moment I saw you.”
She waited for a flash of regret at telling him a truth she'd hidden from him for so long, but it never had a chance to come. Not when his eyes were burning with desire as he looked down at her, his hands now at the small of her back, pulling her even closer. And then he was turning his face into her hand, his tongue brushing against the tip of her thumb.
Her heart raced beneath his lips as he moved to circle the pulse point on her wrist with his tongue. She could feel herself melting deeper into him, completely losing the thread of where she ended and he began.
She shivered almost violently at the pleasure of it, closing her eyes and sinking deeper into the wonder of being with Luke.
Thinking how much she wanted this, how good it felt, the word, “Finally,” left her lips.
Going up onto her toes, she stretched her neck up so that she could rub her cheek against his. And again, that innocent brush of skin against skin, jaw against jaw, was one of the most sensual experiences of her life.
She wanted more.
More. More. More.
Utterly overwhelmed by the waves of ecstasy washing over her, she realized that she was already right there, on the verge of climax.
So good.
Better than she could ever remember feeling. With nothing but his mouth on her wrist, one hand on her hip, his taut muscles pressed along hers, she was nearly at the peak, on the verge of falling over the edge at the slightest additional provocation.
Amazingly, at the same time, she felt that she could hang in this moment forever, sensually suspended in time.