He explored her mouth as if it was the first time, hesitant at first, taking cues from her reaction. And when she parted her mouth, urging more, he accepted the invitation. His tongue slid along the inner rim of her lips, dipped inside, withdrew and thrust again.
Alex felt her body thrum, her nerves catch fire. She’d been envisioning this for days, even as she tried to ignore her own desire. But the reality far exceeded imagination. Or the memory of that night in the cabin.
This was what she’d been fighting so hard, this miracle: Kieran’s heartbeat, the warmth of his skin, the gentle possessiveness of his embrace. He released her mouth and lifted her in his arms, holding her close, as if he could absorb her into himself. He nuzzled her neck, rubbed the slight roughness of his cheek against her jaw. She turned her head to kiss the corner of his mouth, and he groaned softly.
She knew what he needed as she knew herself. Skin on skin, the hard planes of his body fitted to hers. But he took only what she had offered him, leaving no part of her face and neck untouched: running his tongue along the curve of her ear, licking the hollow of her throat; worshiping her forehead and eyelids and chin with kisses, caressing the puckered skin of her scar without hesitation.
Alex responded with unbridled joy. She marveled at the textures of him, the hard planes so different from her own. She tasted the faint saltiness of his skin as he’d tasted her, using tongue and lips until his body quivered beneath her.
And there was another hardness, the blatant evidence of his desire for her pressed against her belly. It lay so close, nearly within her reach.
She hesitated for only an instant. Kieran drew back, taking her face between his hands. “If you’re… ready…”
In answer she snared her fingers in his shirt and pulled him to his knees.
“I want to see you again, the way you first came to me,” she said huskily. “All of you.”
He dropped his hands and watched her, unmoving. She escaped his gaze by kissing the base of his throat, feeling his rapid pulse beneath her lips while she unbuttoned his shirt. And he began to tremble as she slid her palms against his chest, pushing the shirt aside and back along his shoulders, tangling her fingers in his dark dusting of hair.
Alex had never wanted to give or take so much. She gloried in Kieran’s harsh gasp when she pressed her mouth to his bare skin and found his nipple with her tongue. He threw back his head, praising her with the intensity of his response.
He was beautiful beyond any beauty she’d ever known. Sleek and powerful and perfect. And he wanted her.
“Alexandra,” he murmured. He trapped her hands and folded her fingers inward, carried her fists to her lap. “I want to see you. I’ve never… seen you.”
Naked. He’d never seen her naked, had only touched her bare skin that first morning before he even knew what or who he was. Suddenly her mouth went dry, and she couldn’t meet his eyes.
“I’ve dreamed of you,” he said. “Let me see you.”
She looked up again. There was quiet strength in his eyes that reached out to her, wrapped like a caress around her fear and gentled it like a frightened animal. He had seen the worst of her already, and accepted.
He wanted her.
Slowly, holding his gaze, she reached for the button of her shirt. The edges parted. Kieran pulled her shirt back as she’d done his. His breath caught and hung suspended.
She closed her eyes. She wanted this moment to last forever, ached with the anticipation of feeling his hands on her. His first light touch was no more than a grazing of his fingers across her breasts, but it unloosed a jolt of sheer erotic excitement unlike any she’d known could exist.
Instinctively she thrust against him. Yet he cupped her breasts with gentle reverence, as if she were a figurine made of porcelain, or a goddess to be worshiped. He ran his thumbs across her nipples, drawing them into taut, aching peaks.