are," he said at length. "But that wasn't supposed to change anything."
"Do you have to think all the time?"
"It's getting hard to," he murmured. "Right at the moment."
"Then don't. Let's both stop thinking." Even as the blood pounded in her
brain, she kept her gaze locked on his. And lifted her hands, trembling
hands, to the top button of her dress.
He watched her unfasten it, staggered at how that single, simple
gesture, that tiny inch of exposed skin, could electrify him. He felt
his lungs clog, his blood sizzle, and his needs, all the long-denied
needs, beg for release.
"Stop, Grace." He said it gently. "Don't do that."
Her hands fell back to her sides in defeat, and she shut her eyes.
"Let me do it."
Her eyes blinked open, stared stunned at his sober gaze as he stepped to
her. She took in one shaky breath and held it.
"I've always wanted to," he murmured and slipped the next tiny button
free.
"Oh." The breath she held came out in a hitch and a sob. "Ethan."
"You're so pretty." She was already trembling. He lowered his head to
brush a kiss over her lips and soothe. "So soft. I've got rough hands."
Watching her, he skimmed his knuckles down her cheek, over her throat.
"But I won't hurt you."
"I know. I know you won't."
"You're shaking." He undid another button, then another.
"I can't help it."
"I don't mind." Patiently he eased the buttons free to her waist. "I
guess I knew, deep down, if I walked in here tonight, I wouldn't be able
to walk away again."
"I've been wishing you'd walk in here. I've been wishing it a long
time."
"So have I." The buttons were so tiny, his fingers so big. Her skin,
where the dress parted, where the edge of his thumb slid up, was so soft
and warm. "You tell me if I do something you don't like. Or if I don't
do something you want."
The sound she made was part moan, part laugh. "I'm not going to be able
to talk in a minute. I can't get my breath. But I wish you'd kiss me."
"I was getting to it." He nibbled gently, teasingly, because he hadn't
taken his time the first time he'd tasted her. Now he would linger,
sample, find a rhythm that suited them both. When her sigh filled his
mouth, it was sweet. He loosened more buttons and let the long,
deepening kiss spin out.
Touched her nowhere else, not yet. Only mouth against mouth with flavors
mixed. When she swayed, he lifted his head, looked into her eyes.
Clouded now, heavy and aware.
"I want to see you." Slowly, inch by inch, he slipped the dress from her
shoulders. They were sun-kissed, strong, gracefully curved. He'd always
thought she had the prettiest shoulders, and now he indulged himself by
tasting them.
The hum in her throat told him she was both surprised and pleased by the
attention. He had a great deal more to give her.