Desari had slowly merged her mind with his. She saw his terrible need of her, the images of them intertwined. She felt the fire rushing in his blood, the heaviness pooling between his legs. The monster roaring for release, inciting him to take his lifemate with heat and passion and damn the strangers he was trying to be considerate of.
It was a measure of her own raging passion that she had not considered the men, their hearing, their ability to smell. The wind would so easily carry to the others what went on in the forest. “You are far more deserving of me than you believe,” she whispered softly, pride for him making her want to throw herself into his arms.
The fire of hunger and need was on her. She wanted his body crushed against hers, filling hers, his blood running in her own veins. She needed the closeness with him to take away her fear of being separated from him.
Julian shook his head, his hand curling around the nape of her neck. “You cannot look at me like that, piccola, or I am sure to go up in flames.”
Desari allowed her fingers to tangle in his golden mane. “Thank you for thinking of my family when I could not.” Her voice was a whisper of seduction, sliding over his hot skin. Just the sound of it made every muscle in his body clench.
Julian made another effort to breathe. Air. It was all around him, yet he couldn’t seem to drag enough into his lungs. He took her hand in his and carried it to the warmth of his mouth. “We need to find a safe subject, cara mia, or I will not make it through these next few minutes.”
Desari’s soft laughter was like music in the wind. She perched on a large tree trunk that lay across the forest floor. The breeze tugged at her long hair so that it shifted around her like a veil, one moment hiding the temptation of bare, gleaming skin, the next revealing it. “A safe subject,” she mused aloud. “What would that be?”
The air slammed out of his lungs once again at the sight of her. She looked so much a part of her surroundings. Wild. Sexy. Provocative. “You might try closing your shirt.” His voice sounded hoarse and desperate even to his own ears.
Desari had made no attempt to button her blouse, and her breasts jutted toward him, a temptation he knew he would be unable to resist for long. Her button-fly jeans were partially undone, exposing her tiny waist and narrow rib cage. She continued to smile at him, a blatant seduction, while her fingers fiddled with the third button of her jeans.
His hot golden gaze touched her, then moved quickly away. “You are not helping me, Desari.” His voice was husky with his terrible need. Much more and he might truly go up in flames, spontaneous combustion.
The tip of her tongue darted out to moisten her lush mouth. “A subject that will keep our minds off other things.” She touched his chest gently, hardly more than a brush of her fingertips, but she felt him jump. “I am thinking, Julian,” she said softly, innocently, her large dark eyes staring up at him. Her fingers slid the buttons of his shirt free so that the palms of her hands could find the heavy muscles of his chest.
Julian gritted his teeth. “You are killing me, Desari. My heart cannot stand much more.”
“I am merely touching you,” she pointed out demurely. Her nails slid lightly over his skin, tracing each well-defined muscle with exquisite care. “I like the way you feel.” She bent her head closer so that her long hair brushed his sensitized skin, and a sound escaped his throat. “I love the way you smell, too. Is that so bad?”
He captured her hands and held them tightly to him. “You are going to get yourself into trouble.”
“I wonder if you would be more comfortable if I just opened the front of your jeans. They seem a bit tight.” Desari slipped her hands out from under his, wickedly tracing the path of golden hair down to his flat belly. Her fingers were already at work, parting the material before he could think to stop her.
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