And with that, he kissed me. Gently and sweetly, as if this moment was something so very rare and precious, and he was intent on enjoying it for as long as he could.
But it was also a whole lot more than just a kiss, because the minute our lips met, energy swept through me, until my nerve endings were more alive than they had ever been, and quivering with… with what? It wasn't desire, not really. It was more than that. Bigger than that. It was as if I stood on the edge of a precipice reaching for something far beyond my understanding.
As the kiss deepened, I wrapped my arms around his neck and pressed against him, until the only thing separating us was the thin layers of our clothing. Yet it still felt like heated flesh against heated flesh, need against need. His hand slipped down my spine, his touch light but devastating, making me tremble in a way I'd never trembled before. Because it wasn't just his touch—it was the press of his body against mine, the flow of energy around us, the gentle dance of awareness that seemed to ebb and flow with every breath, as if somehow more than just our physical selves was involved in this dance.
Then his lips left mine and lightly brushed my chin. I raised my face and sighed in pleasure as his kisses moved down my neck. When he reached the collar of my shirt, he pulled back slightly and undid the first button, then kissed the skin he'd exposed. I closed my eyes and shuddered in delight. He moved down to the next button, slowly undoing it, pressing the shirt farther apart, then kissing the newly exposed skin.
Too slow, I thought. Far too damn slow.
I raised my hands and ran them across the muscular planes of his chest. His breath hitched; then he caught my hands and pulled them away.
"This," he said gently, though his gaze burned with determination and something else, something that made me quiver with expectation and just a tiny bit of fear, "is for you. I want to explore you, worship you. Just feel, Risa. Just enjoy."
"I don't—" know if I could survive that. Which was silly, and yet I couldn't ignore that niggle of fear that continued to burn within the desire.
But I'd made the decision, taken the step, and I would not back out. I doubted I could have even if I'd wanted to—the connection between us was far too strong to ignore now.
"Please," he said softly, "let me give you this, if nothing else."
I nodded. There was nothing else I could do. Nothing else I could say.
He undid the next button, spreading the shirt wider and kissing the exposed skin. Then he repeated the process, one button at a time, down my body. I quivered every time his lips touched my flesh, until it felt like I was floating on a growing haze of desire, need, and expectation.
Finally, when all the buttons were undone, he trailed his kisses back up my body, then briefly claimed my lips as he slid the shirt from my shoulders. As it fell around my feet, he stepped back a little, his heated gaze roaming across my breasts and stomach as if he'd never seen me naked before. Then, with a slight groan, he bent and captured one hard nipple in his mouth. I gasped, gripping his shoulders as he licked, and nipped, and teased, my body so assaulted with sensation that my knees felt weak. When he moved to my other breast, I whimpered, unable to stand the torture of being touched and yet not being able to touch. God, I so wanted—
No. The soft word flowed into my mind, a command I could not disobey.
And he continued the sweet torture, until it was all I could do not to scream in pleasure and frustration.