a kind of purr-growl that told her he was flying. Tender nips, soothing licks, all down the sensitive spots on her neck, nibbles on her collarbones that made her want to squirm with pleasure.
But she couldn’t, because she was helpless, overwhelmed by his strength, the weight of his possession.
Gods, it was good!
Small undignified sounds escaped her and she didn’t care.
But Erik drew back, his eyes dancing. “Quiet,” he said. A smile so brilliant she forgot to breathe. “Naughty girl.”
Immediately, his golden brown brows drew together and his lips tightened as if he’d bitten back the words he was about to say. “You all right?” The strange little breeze came back from nowhere, teasing his hair so it flopped over his forehead.
If you’re going to give in to temptation, the least you can do is be thorough about it, she told herself. For answer, Prue locked her arms around his neck and tugged him down again, caught between wanting to laugh and amazement at her own daring. She’d never been demanding in bed, but then she’d never had a lover like Erik Thorensen. It was beyond belief, what her body was doing to her. Such driving urgency, an absolute conviction that if she couldn’t have him wedged high and hard inside her, preferably in the next few seconds, she’d die of the wanting. How was it even possible to experience this degree of desire, so acute she’d be babbling like a fool any second?
Sweet Sister, if she did beg, what would it matter? He’d take care of her. She knew he would because he’d promised. Surreptitiously, she raised her hips, the lightest press against the glorious bulge beneath the skintight breeches. It wasn’t just that he was long, he was thick. She’d tried so hard not to notice. Prue licked her lips. What would he do if she took him in her mouth, suckled him right through the fabric? Would he ask her to do that? It wasn’t something she’d particularly enjoyed in the past, but to give Erik pleasure . . . Her clitoris flexed, suffusing her belly with a warmth so sweet and fierce she bit back a moan.
Panting, she came up on her elbows, watching Erik’s busy fingers on her laces, first the gown, then the chemise beneath. As each inch of swelling breast flesh was exposed, he bent his shining head and kissed it. Then he licked it. Then he kissed it again.
When she groaned, he looked up, his cheeks flushed with ruddy color. “You’re so beautiful, Prue,” he said hoarsely, and she couldn’t doubt he meant it. Spreading her bodice open, he filled his hands with her breasts. They both sighed.
“Take your hair down.” He paused, his chest rising and falling. Some of the color left his face. “Sorry. Will you undo your hair? Please?”
He helped her to sit up and together they untied the tapes of her gown and drew it off, leaving her clad in only brief, silky drawers and her best chemise, the one embroidered with silvery touchme blossoms. Fresh from the bath, she’d simply decided she needed to look her best and slipped it over her head with a frisson of pleasure. Now she knew why she’d chosen it.
“Ah. Pretty.” Erik hooked a finger under one strap and then the other, slipping them off her shoulders. The chemise fell to her waist. “Yes,” he rumbled, his voice very deep. “Gods.” A sharp inhalation. “What would you like next, sweetheart?”
Prue pulled the last hairpin free. A sheaf of glossy brown hair slipped down over her shoulders, dark locks tumbling over the paleness of his sleeve. “What?” she said stupidly. Why ask her opinion when he was supposed to be sweeping her away?
Erik’s jaw tightened. “I can’t—won’t—tell you what to do. You set the pace.” But even as he spoke, he was spearing his fingers into her hair, pulling her closer. The breeze picked up, the costumes swinging to and fro on their rack.
“Off,” she mumbled against his mouth, plucking at his shirt. “Off. ”
He reared back, ripping at his laces. That accomplished, he held out a wrist. “The cuff’s tight.” His eyes glinted. “Help me?”
It should have been simple, but her fingers trembled so badly, the small buttons kept slipping from her grasp. Erik hummed happily, rasping her nipples with his free hand, stroking her belly through the silk, making her giggle, silly as a giddy girl.
The shirt floated, billowing in the air before it sank to the floor. She swallowed. Merciful Sister.