Jake's mouth left hers. He sipped hot, moist kisses over her chin, down the sensitive taper of her throat. "I'll say it again, princess," he groaned against her. "You're no lady. And... damn but I have to respect you for that."
Amanda shivered when his tongue teased the pulse pounding hard and fast in her throat. Her voice sounded low, husky, passion-strained, even to her own ears. "I was taught that a lady represses her feelings," she murmured shakily.
"Repress? Jesus, princess, if you're repressing now, I think there's a good chance you'll kill me from sheer pleasure when you finally let loose."
"No, Jake, you misunderstood. I said that's what a lady does." She felt him tense, and before she knew it he'd risen up and was staring down at her. His silvery eyes were hooded, but none the less bright, none the less hot as his gaze stabbed into her. Raindrops dripped from the ends of his hair. The beads of water felt warm from the heat of his body as they splattered on, and soaked into, her shirt, her skin, her blood. "In case you haven't figured it out yet, I'm not feeling like much of a lady right now."
His response was choked. "No? Then what are you feeling like?"
"Not 'what,' how." Her eyelids felt heavy, languid. Was there as much longing in her gaze as there was humming through her body? Amanda hoped so. She wanted Jake to see it. All of it. She wanted him to know how good, how very unladylike he made her feel. "I'm feeling hot, Jake. Very hot. For you."
His jaw bunched hard as he lowered his head until their rain-moistened foreheads touched. His sigh felt misty and warm against her mouth. "Damn, princess, you aren't the only one. Trust me."
And she did. She had to. She wouldn't be letting him do this to her if she didn't, in some essential way, trust this man. Maybe not with information, no, but with her body. He wouldn't hurt her. She didn't know how she knew it, she just did.
There was enough space between his heaving chest and her own for Amanda to sneak her hands between them. Her fingertips hesitated on the second button of his shirt. She felt his hot skin through the cloth. Her fingers shook, which made slipping the buttons free seem like an impossible task; one she didn't do gracefully. By the time Jake's hungry lips had settled on the upper swell of her breast, she'd resorted to ripping most of the buttons free.
He moved, just a slight angling of his head.
It was enough.
His lips closed over her nipple in the same instant Amanda yanked the shirtsleeves down his arms. She was unsure which felt better; what his mouth was doing to her, or the feel of his flesh coasting beneath her open palms. His skin felt hot. The way he made her blood pound through her veins was hotter still. Unbearably hot.
Jake suckled her nipple into his mouth. He rolled it with his tongue, nibbled, tasted and teased. His hand trailed a fiery path down her waist, over her hips, skimming the inside of her thigh. Her skin skimmed warmly beneath his palm as he dragged the skirt higher, bunching it around her waist. His fingers launched an intimate investigation, combing downy gold curls. Jesus, she felt good. So damned good!
Until she tensed.
Jake's sexual expertise was lacking when it came to seducing innocents—especially white ones. He had little experience to draw on, only instinct. Still, he wasn't stupid. He knew virginal shyness when he felt it, and the way her thighs trembled and then closed against his searching hand was certainly that. Didn't she know it was too late to stop?
He frowned. Or was it too late? If she asked, would he stop? Could he? Maybe. For her. He prayed to be spared that test. He wasn't at all sure he could pass it to her satisfaction. He wanted her too damn badly.
"Let me," he rasped, his nose nuzzling the soft, flowery scented hollow between her breasts. Heaven. He'd found heaven. His tongue darted out, licking her. They both shivered. She tasted like rainwater and sunshine. An erotic flavor, one to be savored. "Open for me, princess. Let me touch you."
"Not there, Jake. Please. I—I can't—"
"You can."
"But I shouldn't."
"A lady shouldn't," he agreed throatily. "But I don't want a lady right now, princess. A lady isn't what I need. I need... God, I need to touch you—now, everywhere—so damn badly it hurts. Let me. Please."
It was the please that decided things for her. The word tripped rustily over his tongue, and she did as he asked, albeit timidly.
Her action was a bit martyred, Jake thought. But it wouldn't be for long, he promised them both. Slowly, slowly, his fingers shimmied down. He stroked, inflamed, sought out and probed the moist heat of her. He slipped inside of her, deeply, searching and stretching, preparing her for what was to come.
Amanda stiffened and grew very, very still. Her breathing shallowed until it was almost nonexistent.
He hesitated, waiting until she was used to the invasive feel of a part of him embedded in the most womanly part of her. Then, with an expert flick of his wrist, he began moving. His strokes were slow, long and smooth, oddly gentle. Insistent.
He lifted himself, gazing down into her passion-darkened green eyes. She looked surprised, somewhat dazed, and pleased. Very pleased. Her enjoyment pumped through Jake, and he couldn't help but grin. "Think of it as like... making love," he murmured, as his hand increased the pace.
His words fanned the fire in Amanda's blood. Her hips arched into his touch, initiating a swifter rhythm which instead of satisfying the peculiar ache building inside of her, made her want to cry out in frustration. Something was brewing within her, something white-hot and wonderful. Yet every time she got close to finding out what it was, Jake pulled back. His movements slowed, the feeling ebbed briefly... until he moved, and it all started to build again. And again. And again.
Steady, but not jerky. You want to get that friction started. Back and forth, back and forth. I can't tell you how important rhythm is. Once you've establishe
d the pace, you can't let up or you'll have to start from scratch. Understand?
She hadn't understood at the time. Not really. She was starting to understand now. If only he wouldn't stop. If only he would continue to feed the fire in her until it blazed...