Letting her head rest against him, her hand settled like a shy butterfly on his chest.
"Comfortable?" he asked, wondering how long he would last without touching her.
CHAPTER FIVE
She said nothing in reply to his question and he lasted one scene and two sighs from the woman beside him before his free hand went looking for bare skin beneath her loose top.
She sucked in a breath that seemed to suspend in her chest as his fingers met silky, smooth flesh just above the waistband of her skirt.
He let his hand rest there throughout the next scene, not moving, merely establishing his possession. Her fingers fluttered against his chest and embarked on a tentative exploration that made his heart accelerate into the danger zone.
"You are playing with fire," he warned her, still not ready to credit her willingness to be intimate with a man who had handled her offer of herself so badly.
"Are you saying I can make you burn?" The words should have been said with feminine seduction, instead she sounded shocked by the concept.
“Yes." He shuddered as one gentle fingertip brushed a hard nipple. “With you, I feel like Mount Vesuvius."
"Ready to explode?" she asked with a catch in her voice.
"Hot as the core of the earth itself."
"That's nice," she sighed against him, her hand continuing its tormenting exploration that was not enough.
Without taking his eyes off the television, he began to gently brush back and forth with his thumb against the indentation of her waist. Her fingers contracted on his chest, kneading him like a kitten.
"I am not nice, pethi mou." Such a tame word would never describe what he was intent on making her feel.
"No, you aren't." Something besides passion laced her voice, but he was too turned on to wonder what. "However, you are extremely sexy."
His laughter was harsh with want.
A kiss as soft as down brushed against his chest and he felt an unknown twinge in the region of his heart. It made him determined to get to her as deeply as she got to him.
He allowed his thumb to move higher up her torso with each caress, but always stopped shy of the generous and tempting curve of her breast.
Her small, feminine moan was music to his ears. Then she said his name in a long drawn out hiss and arched against him.
"What is it?" he asked, knowing exactly what she wanted.
"I need..."
He let his thumb rest just below the line of her bra. "What do you need?"
"You, Sebastian." Her head came up and she met his gaze, her green eyes dark with the depth of her emotion and he began to believe in something he had dismissed as fairy tale years ago. "I need you."
The uncontrolled passion and sincerity in her voice, the expression in her beautiful eyes combined to shatter his self-control. She wanted him, not his money, not even a wedding ring. Just him.
Had any woman ever wanted him only for himself?
His ego wanted to say yes, but his bank account guaranteed he could not with certainty.
Rachel was different and the rage of his arousal reflected his body's reaction to that truth. He could not doubt her. She came to him without any promises, without any conditions.
And he would make sure she did not regret that choice.
Without any warning, Rachel found herself on her back, a sexually voracious male vibrating with his need to possess above her. A position that had caused her only terror in the past turned her on to the point of recklessness now and she tore at his shirt, yanking it from the waistband of his pants.
His big body convulsed when her hands encountered hot, hair roughened skin.
"You like that," she said with helpless wonder.
His powerful muscles tense and bulging, he hissed, "Yes."
It was incredible, unbelievable even, that she could affect him this way. The knowledge sent her fingers on a tactile exploration that covered every centimeter of his naked torso that she could reach.
He made guttural sounds deep in his throat and then reared up to tear his shirt all the way off, exposing gleaming, hard masculine planes to her eyes. Was it fair that any man should be so utterly, devastatingly gorgeous? Her eyes devoured him even as her hands reached out to press against the body giving her vision so much pleasure.
He reached for the hem of her knit top. "This goes too."
She waited to feel the fear the thought of being naked with a man would have brought before, but it did not come and grinned at him with unashamed triumph. "Yes!"
She helped him remove her shirt with hands that fumbled in their haste and he laughed once when they got their fingers tangled.
She'd been craving this closeness with him since the night on the beach and now she knew it would be all right. Her mind splintered as his hands took possession of her naked skin. Her nipples ached to feel his touch, but he touched her everywhere else instead. He caressed her stomach, smoothed his warm hands down her arms, then up along her sides.
She shook with need, she moaned, but she had just enough mental capacity left to grit her teeth against begging.
It did no good. When his tormenting fingers strayed onto her breasts, but only drew circles around where she most needed his touch, her jaw unlocked and she shouted in raw demand, "Touch me there."
His steel gray eyes burned her with sensual promise as his fingertips finally trespassed onto turgid peaks, stinging with need. She bowed up toward him, offering him her breasts which he accepted willingly, peeling away her bra to expose her completely to his gaze and touch.
He leaned down and kissed each tip, licking it like a cat before raising his head to meet her gaze. Her eyes were wet with a surfeit of emotion and his name came out on a broken sob. He touched her again, giving her so much pleasure, she shook with the feelings he evoked.
A feverish daze came over her so that she was aware of only the affect his expert caresses had on her body. Somehow he removed the rest of their clothes and then it was full body contact, heart to heart, skin to skin, moist feminine welcome against hard male flesh.
It was so alien and yet more wonderful than anything she'd ever known.
That other time, that man had not even undressed all the way, but Sebastian wanted more than sexual release from her body, he wanted to be intimate with her. Every word out of his mouth, every movement by his body told her this.
Legs slid against legs. Torsos meshed. His mouth came down on hers, his lips demanding all she had to give and she willingly gave it. He crushed her highly sensitized breasts into the thick mat of hair on his chest, pulling her body toward him with ardent hands while thrusting his pelvis against her.
His tongue thrust into her mouth, emulating a mating dance she had thought she would never want to engage in. Well, she wanted now. Oh, how she wanted.
Her legs separated in an age-old invitation and he rubbed his hard flesh against her swollen flesh. Sensation zinged through her feminine center. His mouth broke from hers to trail sexy kisses down her throat.
"I have to taste you," he said against the skin of her neck.
She couldn't make sense of his words. Wasn't he tasting her already?
He nibbled at the base of her neck and she shivered. "Oh, Sebastian, oh..." She couldn't get anything else out and kept saying his name over and over again.
He didn't stop the tasting at her neck, but moved to her breasts, giving her love bites on the resilient flesh that sent sensation arcing through her. When he started suckling her tender peaks, the feeling went straight to her womb and she cried out with the cataclysmic pleasure of it.
Despite her attempt with frantic hands to keep him at her breast, he moved down her body, stopping at her belly button to submit it to a sensual torture she would never have believed possible. When he pressed her legs farther apart, she let him without thought to the consequences, but when his head lowered and he kissed her in the most intimate way possible, shock at the unexpected sensation made her try to buck him o
ff.
He raised his head, his expression that of a jungle animal thwarted of its prey. "Do you not want the pleasure I can give you?"
How could she answer that? "I've never..."
His brows rose. "Ah, a man has not tasted your sweet nectar before?"
"No," she croaked.
His eyes questioned her.
"Never," she affirmed.
Definite male satisfaction glowed in his molten gaze. "I want to taste you, Rachel. Let me."
It sounded more like a demand than a request for permission, but he had stopped and she could not deny him. Not when telling him no meant stifling desires consuming her with unquenchable flames.
"Yes."