He looked like a god, she thought in bemusement. Apollo himself, who filled the room with his seductive power.
Joining her on the bed, his fingers easily dealt with her own clothing, his skill briefly reminding her that he must have undressed dozens of women with the same urgent talent. It was a thought that she fiercely shoved aside. For once she did not want to think of the past or the future. She only wanted to enjoy the moment.
As if sensing her hesitation, Philippe cupped her face in his hands and regarded her with that unnerving intensity.
“Do not become shy, meu amor,” he murmured, his thumb stroking her bottom lip. “I have devoted too many nights to thoughts of having those sweet hands stroking my body to bear for you to stop now.”
His voice was soft, but Raine did not miss the hint of yearning that was threaded through the words. Her heart melted as she lifted her hands to press them to his chest. How many nights had he devoted to learning every sweep and curve of her body? How many soft cries had he wrung from her throat as he had kissed and nibbled endless paths of pleasure?
Tonight it would be her opportunity to discover the secrets of his body.
Clearing her mind of everything but the feel of his hair-roughened skin beneath her fingers, Raine explored his chest, lingering upon his nipples as a groan was wrenched from his throat. The sound only emboldened Raine as she leaned forward to replace her fingers with her lips.
Philippe arched against her, his hand curving about her neck as she flicked her tongue over his nipple.
“Sim, sweet angel, do not stop, I beg of you, do not stop.”
Raine had no intention of stopping. There was a heady satisfaction in knowing that it was her touch that was making him shudder. Her lips that were causing his heart to race.
Her hands continued their restless search, traveling over the slope of his shoulders, the length of his arms, the hard planes of his stomach. Her blood heated and her stomach constricted at the fascinating contrast of the smooth silk of his skin layered over his rigid muscles.
“I like the feel of you,” she whispered. “Your skin is so warm.”
He gave a choked groan, his breath coming in great rasps. “It is on fire, meu amor. Your touch has set me aflame.”
When her hands at last reached the large thrust of his erection she briefly paused, and then with a tentative touch she stroked down the pulsing shaft until she reached the soft pouches beneath.
Philippe’s hips jerked off the mattress, his hand tugging her head toward his lips so that he could kiss her with a searing urgency. His tongue thrust between her lips just as his cock surged between her fingers. Raine tightened her grip, her head spinning beneath his devouring lips.
Beneath her touch his body trembled, a fine shimmer of perspiration coating his skin. For once he was not the practiced seducer in command of their lovemaking. Instead he was caught in the throes of her touch, of the pleasure she was capable of giving him.
An unexpected flare of satisfaction touched her heart and she wanted to please him, to know that she could make him shiver and plead for more.
She wanted the memory of her etched so deeply he would never be capable of forgetting her.
Unaware of the poignant sadness that tugged at her heart, Philippe pulled back with a rasping growl.
“Oh…God. I need to be inside you, meu amor,” he said in thick tones. “I want to feel you riding me.”
Not at all certain what he meant, Raine gave a startled gasp when he rolled onto his back, taking her with him. She braced her hands on his chest as she stared down at his flushed countenance, her legs straddling his hips. He held her gaze with ease as he used one hand to adjust his erection, his other hand on her hip as he guided her downward.
Raine’s heavy lids lowered as she was slowly impaled by his rigid flesh, and when he began to roughly thrust his hips, she tilted back her head and allowed him to take control.
In this moment he belonged utterly to her.
It was a memory that would have to warm her in the lonely years ahead.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
PHILIPPE AWOKE WITH A rare sense of contentment. Not that it wasn’t always pleasurable to awake beside Raine, he ruefully acknowledged. What man in his right mind would not be delighted to discover his arms filled with such a beautiful woman? But on this morning there was a new satisfaction.
Meu Deus, Raine had offered herself so sweetly last night. There had been no barriers, no conflict, no sense of grudging acceptance. Instead she had been openly wanton, giving and taking pleasure with such abandon that he had been forced more than once to plead for her to end his torment and bring him to satisfaction.
Strange to think that he would enjoy being at a woman’s mercy. Certainly he would never have allowed any other female to gain the upper hand. Not in his bed and not in his life.
But with Raine…with Raine all he could comprehend during the blaze of searing pleasure was that she had at last opened herself to him. She had held nothing back as she had led him to paradise over and over.
She had accepted that she belonged to him utterly.