Page 66 of Dare to Risk it All

He shook his head, rubbing the back of his neck, and gave a short laugh.

“What?” Greer asked, wondering what the trouble was.

Raphe looked at her from under his lashes, looking oddly uncertain. “I’m—a little nervous,” he admitted.

Greer snorted with amusement and then clapped a hand over her mouth as she realised that might not be an appropriate response. Thankfully, Raphe laughed, recognising the ridiculousness of the situation. Smiling, Greer hurried to stand in front of him, slipping her arms about his waist.

“Don’t worry, darling. I’ll be gentle with you,” she whispered.

“Wretch,” he replied with affection, but took her in his arms and kissed her, his tongue toying lazily with hers, though her reaction to the languid exploration was a fierce throb of desire. His brief show of nerves seemed to evaporate like smoke as the kissed deepened, his usual raw confidence blazing as the heat rose between them.

“That’s a good start,” she said, breathless as he pulled back, watching her to gauge her reaction. “But I think you should undress me now.”

“Good Lord. Bold as brass,” he said, shaking his head sadly.

“I’m afraid so,” she agreed, turning around. “It fastens in the back,” she added helpfully, grinning over her shoulder at him.

His eyes glittered as he turned his attention to the fastenings. Despite having experienced before the speed with which his clever fingers could move, Greer was still a little stunned by how quickly he divested her of her gown and corset. In short order, she was wearing nothing but her shift, and her breath caught as he reached down, grasping the hem of the fine material. He drew it up over her head and flung it aside and she felt his breath as a hot tickle on the back of her neck.

Greer gasped as his warm hands slid up over her hips, gooseflesh chasing all over her as he pulled her back against him. She shivered as cold buttons touched her overheated flesh and his palms coasted higher, mapping the curves of her body.

“So beautiful,” he whispered. “My own, my wife.”

Greer closed her eyes, touched by the reverence with which he spoke. He cupped her breasts and gently squeezed and caressed, rolling the tender pink buds until they were hard and aching.

“Raphe,” she said, speaking his name like a plea as he slid one hand between her legs and tickled through the silky, coarse curls. Her head dropped back against his shoulder, the strength in her legs disappearing as his fingers sought and found the peak of her sex. He chuckled as she swayed, one hand banding about her to keep her upright as he toyed with her, teasing touches that made her breathing grow harsh. She was giddy with wanting, the world around her becoming vague and insubstantial as her attention focused on the one thing that mattered. The feeling was delicious and yet he kept his touch infuriatingly light, not quite enough to send her to the place she needed to rush headlong towards. She clutched at his arms, rolling her hips with abandon, trying to encourage him to hurry, but he only laughed softly, shaking his head.

“Oh, no,” he murmured against her neck. “You’ve done it now, sweet girl. You wanted me from the start. You chased me until I was yours. Well, now I am. You wanted the devil in your bed and now you’ll have him, all of him, but that means you’ll suffer the consequences.”

Greer whimpered, as much from pleasure as frustration.

“Please,” she whispered.

Raphe nipped at her ear. “Not a chance in hell,” he replied darkly, sweeping her up and carrying her to the bed.

He laid her gently down and stretched out beside her, his gaze burning her like she stood beside a furnace as he looked his fill but did not touch. Greer reached for him, but he caught her hand, kissed every fingertip in turn and pressed her hand firmly back to the mattress.

“No,” he said.

Greer glared at him, indignant. “But I want to touch you.”

“Oh, you will,” he promised, his voice like black velvet sliding over her skin, making her shiver again.

He reached out, his fingers trailing idly around her nipple before taking a circuitous path back between her thighs. The elegant hand explored her at his leisure, sometimes caressing, sometimes dragging the blunt edges of his nails over her sensitive flesh, occasionally delivering a gentle pinch until she was nothing but nerve endings, quivering expectantly for the next crumb of pleasure he deigned to deliver.

“Do you enjoy being at my mercy?” he asked, his eyes darker than she’d ever seen them before.

Excitement prickled over her skin at the tone of his voice, at the possessive quality she heard there. She stared up at him and nodded, beyond words.

“Do you trust me, love?”

She nodded again, studying him, noting the faint flush of colour high on his cheeks that told her he was not so calm as he looked. His expression was intent now, and she realised his breathing was unsteady.

“I would never hurt you, Greer. You know that, don’t you?”

Greer smiled at him then, at the absurdity of this man ever breaking her trust. “Do your worst, my own devil.”

Satisfaction glinted in his eyes, and he climbed over her, straddling her hips and taking hold of her wrists. He raised her arms over her head, holding them in place with one hand as the other tugged at his cravat, freeing the long length of fabric with deft movements. Greer gasped, a little shocked, as he flung the pillows aside and tied her wrists firmly to the brass headboard.