shot through her as the thin cotton rubbed against her aching nipples. “I want to see you.”
She nipped at his lower lip, drawing out another groan from his throat, then straightened. She drew her top over her head and was rewarded by a feral growl of pure want.
“Beautiful.” Fenrir’s voice was husky. “So beautiful.”
He skimmed his fingertips over her sides reverently, as though he hardly dared to touch her. But God, she needed to be touched. Her pulse was pounding so hard between her legs, she felt dizzy.
She caught his wrists again, pulling his hands up to her breasts. That first brush of his work-roughened palms against her hard, peaked nipples made her shudder, biting her lip to stop herself from crying out.
His eyes were fixed on hers. Watching her intently, he circled her nipple with one finger, feather-light.
“Good?” he asked.
“Oh yes,” she gasped. She wound her arms around his neck, urging him forward. “More, Fenrir. With your mouth. Please.”
With a low growl, he buried his face in her chest. His huge hands spread wide across her back. His mouth closed over her nipple.
She arched her back, overwhelmed by sensation. His beard prickled against her skin, an intoxicating contrast to the soft flick of his tongue. Growing bolder, he drew her deep into his mouth, sucking.
“Oh God, Fenrir, yes!” She clenched her fingers in his dark hair, blinded by pleasure. “Don’t—don’t hold back. Harder!”
He obliged, nipping and sucking with increasing abandon. His hand came up to pinch her other nipple, and she very nearly came on the spot. Her panties were soaking, clinging to her slick folds. Pent-up need coiled inside her, demanding release.
Fenrir released her breast, pulling back. She could have sobbed in frustration. She ground her pelvis against him, but he caught her hips, holding her away.
“Want to taste you,” he growled. He moved his hand down, hooking a finger under the waistband of her pants. “Taste all of you. Please?”
She straightened her glasses, trying to catch her breath. “Well, since you asked so nicely…”
She wriggled off him, standing up on the bed. Fenrir propped himself up on his elbows, staring up at her with total, worshipful attention.
Rip off these stupid clothes as fast as possible, or give him a show? Impatience won out over sexiness. She yanked her pants off, hopping awkwardly on one foot to kick them away.
From the look in Fenrir’s eyes, anyone would have thought she’d just twirled upside-down on a pole while doing the Dance of the Seven Veils. His hands clenched in the bedcovers as though he was having to physically stop himself from leaping for her.
She crawled up his prone body to capture his mouth for another long, deep kiss. He was rigid under her palms, every muscle knotted tight.
“Your turn,” she whispered against his lips. She slipped a hand under his shirt, undoing the top button of his pants. “I want to see you too.”
The bed bounced underneath her as he stood. He didn’t bother to struggle out of his shirt. He just tore it off his body in one sharp, impatient jerk.
Darcy had a brief moment of regret—I liked that shirt—but then Fenrir unzipped his pants. And she suddenly had other, much larger things to consider.
Darcy swallowed hard. She’d seen Fenrir naked before, of course. But there was a very, very big difference between then, and now.
Oh shit. I’m not sure this is going to work.
Fenrir must have seen something of her qualms in her expression. He paused in undressing, glancing down at himself. Worry furrowed his brow.
“There is something wrong with me?” he asked.
For all his huge size, he suddenly looked vulnerable. Darcy mentally kicked herself. She scrambled up, standing on the bed to wrap her arms around him.
“You’re perfect,” she said, kissing the hollow of his throat. “And sexy as hell. There’s just, uh, a lot of you. I’m going to need to take this really slow, okay?”
His taut back relaxed a little under her palms. “I want that. To take our time.”
“Take as much time as you want.” She released him, lying back on the bed. Smiling up at him, she let her legs fall open. “After you’ve got naked.”
Feral heat lit in his eyes, banishing the last traces of self-doubt. Stripping off the last of his clothes, he knelt between her spread legs. His hands closed over her thighs.
“So soft,” he murmured. Fire shot through her as his thumbs stroked her sensitive skin. “So very soft.”
He ducked his head, hands gently urging her legs further