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How would they feel on her flesh? Raking over it, creating a flash point of pleasure and heat?
She swallowed tightly as he gripped the hem of her shirt.
"Let me take it off."
Her breath caught in her throat. "Is that a good idea?"
"Is any of it?" He tugged the hem upward. "Take it off or walk out of here. I can't stand here and not touch you as well, Haley. That's asking too much."
"No kisses?" She was almost whimpering with the need for his kiss though. Her lips tingled, her tongue ached to twine with his.
"No kisses," he promised.
She lifted her hands from his chest and raised her arms slowly, allowing him to draw the shirt from her. Sensuality wrapped around them heavily, saturating the air with lust and hunger as he tossed the material aside and stared down at her.
The white lace camisole she wore-in place of a bra adequately covered her, sort of.
"That's cheating." There was no grin, there was only need in his eyes to see her. "Let me take it off, too."
She could feel her nipples rasping against the lace, urging him to do just that. She licked her lips nervously and lifted her arms for him again.
He drew the lace covering from her, the material stroking over her nipples drawing a ragged groan from her. As he tossed the material aside, his hands caught her wrists, holding them over her head as he stared down at her.
"I want to suck your nipples." The blunt, blatant hunger in the words caused her womb to clench in response. Like a punch to her stomach, firing her nerve endings and sending pleasure streaking through her body.
She wanted him to suck her nipples. Her nipples wanted his mouth on them. She ached for it. The flesh between her thighs heated for it. She felt weak, dazed, arousal pouring into every cell and whipping over her nerve endings.
"If I weren't a breed," he told her then, "if I were just a man, I'd lay you down and tempt you with my mouth. I'd suck your pretty nipples until the dark pink blushed a pretty rose. Then I'd go between your thighs and lick the sweetest cream, and know your arousal is just for the pleasure I can give you."
Haley watched the regret that filled him as he stared down at her. He held her wrists easily in one hand. With the other, he cupped the rounded mound of a breast, the tip of a finger stroking over the ultrasensitive, hardened peak.
Haley shuddered. She leaned her head against one of her arms as he held them both over her head and stared up at him.
"I'm going to melt to the floor," she whispered. "We need to stop this."
"I'm still in control," he rasped.
"But maybe I'm not," she gasped.
"I'll keep you in control."
His hand lowered from her breast to the elastic band of her lounging pants.
"Let me." He pushed them over her hips.
Haley stared up at his face. No man had ever stared at her with such need. Even in the height of sex, the few lovers she'd had hadn't looked at her like this.
She trembled as she let him push the loose material over her hips. She watched his face as he stared at the white-lace panties she wore. The French-cut, hip-high panties matched her camisole, and they were damp, wet with her need.
"Ah, Haley." His tone was guttural as she watched in shock as he knelt in front of her.
He had released her hands, but what the hell was she supposed to do with them? The bed. She gripped the footboard as his hands clasped her hips. His face was only inches from her, her flesh covered only by the lace of the panties.
"You don't shave here?" One hand lowered, the backs of his fingers stroking over her mound.
"No." Shock gathered in her voice that he would ask her.
She had tried it, once, and hadn't liked the sensation.
