He raised his hands to her shoulders and kneaded her tight trapezius and delts. The problem-solving part of him wanted to know more details about what worried her. He justified the urge to ask personal questions as a need to clear away any stress impeding her from achieving the climax she was overdue for, but that wasn’t the whole truth. He wanted to know more about her. Unfortunately, they’d agreed not to get personal—an agreement that had bothered him a little last night, and even more today, but she’d set the rules, and he’d committed to play by them. So fine, he kneaded her muscles a little more firmly. She moaned softly, and her head dropped back to rest against his collarbone. “What else is going on in Siberia that’s got you so worried?”
“Oh, you know…Siberia’s a complicated place. Lot’s of little headaches, and a few big ones I didn’t see coming. It’s hard to cover your ass 24-7.”
Translation? Somebody had done a number on her. Trust was an issue. He’d have to earn enough of hers to convince her she could let go with him—really let go. Starting now. “For the next little while, Czarina, your ass is mine. You don’t have to worry about covering it.”
Chapter Five
Worries? What worries? She honestly couldn’t remember. They were almost as blurry as how she’d ended up facedown on the bench seat, with her head pillowed on her balled-up shirt, and Rider’s heavenly hands working the knots out of her neck, her shoulders, and ooohhh, every single inch of her backbone. Her bikini top was… She didn’t even know where it was, and she really didn’t care. All she could focus on was his hands making their way slowly up her back. His thumbs pressed shallow parallel lines on either side of her spine, and his strong fingers steadily climbed her ribs.
“Feel better?” His thumbs circled the stiff muscles between her shoulder blades at the same time his fingers stroked the swells of her breasts. Her bones turned to putty, and her nipples contracted. The combination created an addictive mix of relaxation and tension.
“Yes,” she managed, and bit her lip as wide palms meandered down her back.
He parked the heels of his hands on her hips and applied careful pressure. “Get ready to feel even better.”
She inhaled. He pressed infinitesimally harder. She opened her mouth—to beg for more, or cry uncle, she wasn’t sure—but something in her lower back cracked, and whatever she’d been about to say dissolved into a sigh of relief.
Those skilled hands moved down to tug her shorts. The worn denim gave, sliding low on her hips. “Did you break the rule last night after I left?” The quiet question tightened her skin. And just like that, the mood shifted from relaxed to seductive.
“No. I agreed I wouldn’t.”
“Did you want to?”
She meant to offer a noncommittal response, but what came from her throat sounded guilty even to her. She lifted her hips to let him pull her shorts down. And off. The breeze fluttered over newly bared skin, and she spared a moment to think about the fact that her bikini bottoms were extremely itsy. She’d packed several, but they were all brief. A woman with a pool to herself tended to minimize tan lines. She wasn’t especially modest, but she did try to be discreet, especially after the recent fiasco. And thanks to that fiasco, she suddenly felt a little vulnerable. But then those diabolical hands were back, riding up her legs, bending them at the knees and propping her shins along his chest. His fingers lingered to tease the hollows behind her knees. Seconds later they trespassed along the sensitized skin of her inner thighs. Her thoughts scattered.
“Did you want to?” he prompted.
“Want to…what?”
His fingers inched higher. He leaned forward, bending her legs as he went. The position forced her knees wider. Pure instinct had her opening them even more. He sneaked a hand under her stomach and slid upward until he cupped her breast. “Did you want to touch yourself?”
So badly. The idea of admitting it out loud right now sent an uncomfortable heat to her face, but she doubted he could see her reaction from behind her. “Yes.”
Without warning, strong f
ingers vised snugly along the crevice of her backside—his thumb extending almost to the lowest notch on her spine, his index finger reaching all the way to where her bikini bottoms had gone damp.
Shock and pleasure sent her pushing up onto her forearms. “Jeezuuus.”
“Easy,” he said, and reasserted his hold on her breast and…everywhere. She couldn’t have felt more at his mercy if he’d hog-tied her, but there was something strangely reassuring about the restrained strength of his hold. Her body relaxed, and she lowered her head until her cheek rested on the bench.
“That’s my girl. I told you, I’ve got your ass.” His breath caressed the arch of her foot. “The rest is all yours. Touch yourself now. Show me what you would have done last night.”
She pressed her face into the cushion. The notion of touching herself—like this—while he watched her chase an orgasm made her hot and self-conscious. “I want you to get me off. That’s the whole point.”
“Baby steps, Czarina. You’re going to have to work your way up to that, starting here.” He flexed his fingers, deliberately toying with her.
Her bikini bottoms offered flimsy protection. She planted her fists under her shoulders and lifted her head until she could prop her chin on the cushion. “Rider…”
“Show me. I’m waiting.” He shifted his grip so the tip of his finger pressed against her threshold, heavy but unmoving.
“Oh God.” She couldn’t hold still. Couldn’t. A furtive rocking of her hips helped. It helped so much she indulged in another, and another, beyond caring how depraved she looked. Then he moved his finger and edged the sweet relief out of reach. She nearly cried out loud.
“You take it from here.” He fanned his thumb over her nipple, sending streaks of lightning directly to her core.
Nobody had ever worked her into such an irresistible state of misery before. “Don’t stop.” She gripped the edges of the cushion, shifted her weight to her knees, and raised her hips as best she could to pursue his touch, but came up against the backstop of his thumb.
“Get to work, princess.” He slid his thumb along the narrow barricade of her bikini bottoms in a type of caress she normally wouldn’t seek.