Ravish: The Awakening of Sleeping Beauty - By Cathy Yardley Page 0,11

some quiet, cold part of his mind pointed out. It’s just a dream.

There were no restrictions here. No rules. Nothing but desire.

She rested the nozzle back in its holder, and her gray eyes slowly fluttered open, slowly focusing on him. He stared at her hungrily.

“Jacob?” she asked, her voice husky and low. She looked at him through the fringe of her lashes, and a pretty blush rode high on her cheeks. “I thought you were…I don’t know. A hallucination or a dream or something.”

He nodded.

You didn’t want to dream about her again.

Apparently his subconscious had other ideas.

She stood up, climbing gracefully out of the tub. Her body was spectacular: long limbed and lithe, the sinuous, womanly curves of her as delicate and precise as if they’d been painted by Michelangelo. She glanced at him nervously.

“I guess this must be a dream,” she said, then she smirked at him, her cheeks pitting with two mischievous dimples. “Because in no other place in my life would a gorgeous naked man catch me doing that in the bathtub. I don’t suppose you…how much did you see?”

“Everything,” he said, watching as her blush deepened a few shades.

“I’m sorry.”

“I’m not.” His body tensed. “I’m glad.”

“You weren’t embarrassed?” she asked.

“It turned me on.”

She looked down, seeing his rock-hard cock standing at attention. Her blush deepened, but she didn’t look away. He noticed that her nipples tightened a little.

“What if this is a dream, Rory?” he murmured. “A strange man catches you naked in the bath and says he wants to make love to you. Would you let him?” He reached out, boldly stroking her breast, watching as she gasped, her pupils dilating. “Will you let me, Rory?”

He saw her pulse, beating hard in the column of her throat. She took a step forward.

“Yes,” she whispered.

He held his breath. He no more could have stopped himself from touching her than he could have stopped the tide from coming in.

He leaned down, and she tilted her head up, meeting his lips. The kiss started soft, a light brush of his lips against hers…coaxing, teasing. She made a low sound, like a delighted purr, and he found himself smiling against her mouth. She nipped at his jawline, obviously impatient. He slicked his tongue over her full lower lip. When she gasped, he took advantage, sweeping his tongue between her parted lips, caressing her tongue with his own in a long, deep kiss.

“More,” she breathed. She pressed against him, her damp skin sliding along his. He groaned, his mouth moving over hers more intently as his hands shot out to grip her hips, holding her flush against him, trying to stop the delicious friction she was building.

She gripped his shoulders, outmaneuvering him by dragging her breasts against his chest and gasping against his mouth as she struggled to bring her pelvis in closer contact with his. His cock nestled against her stomach, and he shuddered at the feel of her soft, warm skin pressing against him in even such a tangential way.

“You put your mouth on my pussy,” she murmured, and the words caused him to groan in anticipation. “You made me come.”

“Yes,” he said, in a strained voice.

“Then, the next time,” she whispered, “you put your cock inside me, pleasuring me with your hardness, until I came.”

“Yes,” he said. “Oh God, yes.”

“Ever since I met you, I haven’t been able to eat, I haven’t been able to sleep,” she said quickly. “My body is fevered, all the time. All I can think about is you: the way you taste, the way you touch me, the feel of your tongue, and the feel of your cock as you push inside me…”

“God.” The words lashed against him, making going slow almost impossible. “I’m going to take you on the floor if you keep talking like that.”

“Take me wherever,” she said, her hands rubbing against his restlessly. “Just take me.”

“No,” he said firmly. “Trust me, there’s more to this than being quick.”

He carried her, still wet from her bath, over to the bed, dropping her on its surface. She laughed softly when she tumbled onto the coverlet. She was reaching for him before he could stretch out beside her. “Jacob,” she repeated, before her mouth covered his chest in a flurry of kisses.

“I don’t want to rush,” he explained with a wry smile. “I want to take my time, draw it out…show you how we can both enjoy this. But damn it, woman, you’re making it hard not to. I can’t remember