“No. But it will be more conducive to passion. You may not recall, but I had little opportunity for sleep last night. Considering my fatigue and the pain of my bullet wound, I suspect it will take more than the prospect of a
perfunctory coupling to arouse me.”
His lack of eagerness wasn’t at all flattering, but he seemed determined to go through with the bedding. He sat to remove his boots and breeches, wincing now and then as he completely undressed.
A neat bandage wrapped his lower thigh, Raven saw, but it was the rest of him that captured her unwilling attention. His lean body rippled with muscle, while firelight played across his skin. He was quite beautiful, heaven help her.
Involuntarily she followed the fine line of dark hair down his chest to his naked loins and drew a slow breath. He was every bit as virile as she had imagined him to be-and far more intimidating. Making love to a fantasy would not be the same as giving her body to this man…a very real, very tangible, warm flesh and blood lover.
Realizing he was watching her, she averted her gaze from his all too piercing eyes. But only momentarily. When he rose and moved toward her, she was drawn once again into the intensity of his gaze. He looked much like her pirate lover, except that the flickering shadows made his face look even darker, more dangerous. Just like in her recent disturbing dream.
It was all she could do to remain still when he stopped merely inches from her. Unconsciously Raven reached up to touch his chiseled cheekbone, brushing the jagged line of his scar.
“Does my disfigured face repulse you?” he asked quietly.
The question startled her. He was a stunningly attractive man, with the devil’s own beauty, and no scar could diminish his sensual appeal. In fact it only added to his allure, heightening his aura of danger and rousing a forbidden excitement deep within her. And yet it hurt to think of the pain he must have endured.
“No, it doesn’t repulse me,” she replied just as softly. “Though I did wonder how you came by it.”
He frowned. “It isn’t a pretty tale.”
Grasping her fingers, he held her hand away, dismissing her curiosity just as easily. “I was serious when I said the honors will have to fall to you, vixen.”
“I…I’m not certain what you mean.”
“I mean that I will have to be beneath you. My covering you would severely strain my injured leg. So you will have to take the initiative.”
“Oh.” She flushed at the disturbing image that his plain speaking brought to mind. “I don’t think I would know where to begin.”
“You just said that your journal has given you an adequate carnal education.”
“Yes, but reading about it is different from actually-”
“Perhaps you should use that vivid imagination of yours, then.” When she returned a puzzled frown, Kell amended his suggestion. “You can start by kissing me.”
Shutting her eyes, she raised her face and obediently pressed her lips to his-with no reaction. She’d expected him to ravage her mouth, as in her dream, but he remained as cold and unresponsive as a statue.
She pressed harder and felt a slight stirring of warmth in his lips. A moment later, his arms came around her, but his kiss was still tentative, reluctant, as if he were forcing himself even to touch her.
More determined now, Raven slid her fingers through the heavy, dark waves of his hair and drew his face closer. The resultant spark that flared between them was unmistakable.
And she had succeeded in arousing him, she realized. When he pulled her against him, letting her feel the swollen ridge of his erection against the softness of her belly, Raven swallowed a gasp.
In response, he lifted his head to stare down at her, unsmiling. She was certain he could see the flare of mingled desire and panic in her eyes. He knew what was happening to her, how her heart beat unevenly, how her skin had become overheated.
He truly kissed her then. No longer holding back, he bent his head and covered her lips with his, like a man intent on claiming what was his. His tongue moved deep into her mouth in a kiss that was everything she’d ever fantasized and more.
Raven heard herself moan. She should try to resist his allure, she knew, but he made her feel so faint and hot, so unlike herself. Warmth was gathering in her body, seeping down to pool in her loins.
He pulled back without speaking, still staring at her. His lashes were absurdly long for a man, she thought, black as ink, framing eyes that burned.
He silently undressed her then, unfastening the buttons of her gown and slipping it off her shoulders for her to step out of. His expression tightened in sympathy when he caught sight of her bruised wrists, but he continued wordlessly, removing her slippers and peeling down her stockings, then attending to her corset and chemise, tossing the garments aside one by one until she stood naked and defenseless before him.
She quivered as his black velvet eyes slowly swept over her…her breasts, her waist, her hips, her legs… Raven felt a scalding heat wherever his eyes touched, while a throbbing ache began to pulse between her thighs-
Drawing a deep breath, she tried to ignore the longing that was flooding her. She needn’t surrender to her wanton desires. She needed only to get through this night and then she would be free of him.
But it was difficult to remain unaffected when he stood so close. She could feel the heat from his body as he removed the pins from her hair, unraveled the knot at her nape, smoothed out her raven tresses. His eyes were so beautiful, dark as midnight and just as fathomless.