Alaric tossed it over his shoulder as he feasted on the sight of her. Her peaches and cream complexion was flushed to a soft rose pink. He’d never known a woman to blush all over. The novelty of it tugged at something deep inside and he felt an unexpected moment of protectiveness.
His breath sawed in his throat as he traced the tell tale colour from her cheeks, past her lips, down to the base of her throat where her pulse pattered hard and fast. He stroked lower, down the upper slope of her breasts.
Her nipples puckered in welcome beneath her ivory bra. Functional, with a minimum of lacy edging and a tiny bow between her breasts, on Tamsin the plain bra looked sexier than the most revealing demi-cup or lace-up corset.
Alaric’s breath grew hoarse and heavy as he slipped his hands to her breasts. Warm, perfect, full, they filled his palms as she pressed forward, her eyelids flickering closed.
Fire exploded in his belly as he held her soft bounty in his hands. Gently he caressed and her head lolled back, her neck arched invitingly.
His mouth was a hair’s breadth from her scented throat when he recalled his scattered wits. No kisses. Not yet.
He dragged himself back, wincing at the shaft of discomfort in his groin.
Alaric dealt with the snap on her trousers and the zip easily, pushing the fabric down, down those long, lithe legs till at his urging she stepped out of them. Even the act of stripping her long grey and black striped socks was a sensual indulgence as he crouched before her. The intimate heat of her sex was so close. The silkiness of her calves teased as he skimmed the socks down. The seductive arch of each foot distracted as he tugged the socks free.
Low before her he was tempted to lean in and explore her feminine secrets with his lips and tongue. But he was too close to the edge to risk it.
Instead he allowed his fingertips to skim her knees and thighs as he rose, lingering for a moment at her knickers, where her heat beckoned, over her belly, breasts and up to cup her jaw.
She was sensational. All soft curves, taut lines and delicate angles. Pure female seduction. Just looking at her almost tipped him over the edge.
Eyes bright as gold stared up into his, dazzling him. The impact of her sunburst gaze thumped through his chest and showered sparks through every nerve and muscle.
‘You’re wearing too many clothes.’ Tamsin’s voice was hoarse, almost unrecognisable. He felt a kick of satisfaction low in his gut that she was as desperate as he.
‘Easily remedied.’ With a violent movement he dragged his shirt and sweater up and off, flinging them behind him.
Though warm, the air was cool to his burning skin. Soft palms landed on his chest, fingers splaying. Tamsin explored his pectorals, scraping her nails tantalisingly over his hard nipples, trailing her hands to his belly.
In a flash his trousers were open and he shoved them down, balancing on one leg then another as he discarded underwear, socks and trousers in record time.
Belatedly he recalled the condom in his back pocket and stooped to retrieve it. There was a box of them in the bedside table but watching Tamsin’s face as she took in his naked body, he knew those few metres to the table might as well be a hundred kilometres.
Tearing the wrapper with his teeth, he deftly rolled on the protection, pleasure spiking at Tamsin’s expression of shocked excitement. The way she stared he could have been a demi-god, a hero, not an earthbound man with feet of clay. His blood beat hard and fast as his hands dropped away.
He stepped forward.
Alaric loomed closer and Tamsin backed up.
She hadn’t intended to. It was instinctive, an unplanned bid to escape a man who suddenly seemed dangerous in a primitive, ultra-physical way she’d never known.
The reality of Alaric the man, of what they were doing, hit her full force.
He was so big, so heavily aroused; a sliver of anxiety pierced the fog of desire. He could bend her to his will and she wouldn’t be able to resist. Whatever he demanded of her he could take.
An age old female wariness sped down her backbone. It had nothing to do with his royal rank and everything to do with Alaric as a virile, dominant male.
The cool slap of the high footboard against the back of her legs brought her up short. As did his puzzled expression.
‘Tamsin?’ He stood where he was, only reached out one arm to her. Like the rest of him it was powerfully corded with muscle. Yet as she looked she saw his fingers tremble.
She gulped down the panic that had bubbled out of nowhere and looked into his eyes, glazed with hot desire yet questioning. This time her brain kicked into gear.
When she’d watched him roll on the condom, his eyes had eaten her up with a fierceness that thrilled and terrified her. When he’d approached she’d let fear of the unknown swamp the surge of desire.