“Adelyn...”
“No more names.” She shifted to her knees to face him, shoving aside the satchel. The motion dislodged the knot of the towel—just as he had known it would—and the fabric unspooled around her.
He inhaled sharply at the unveiling, but he had only a glimpse of her curved hips and dark-peaked breasts before she leaned in and kissed him.
Her mouth slanted across his, and the tingle of the salve jolted all the way through him. Unbalanced on the bulk of the comforter below them, she rocked into him. He gripped her shoulders to steady her, and the warmth of her skin under his palms made his fingers clench reflexively. To hold her like he’d never let go.
He forced himself to gentle his grip, and he slid one hand upward, into her hair. With a groan, he found the black strands even more silky than he had imagined. Anchored in her hair, he tipped her head and deepened the kiss.
For a second, she stiffened, as if surprised, but then she widened her mouth to accommodate him. Her tongue teased his with matching fervor.
Whatever was in that salve—the heat and the shiver—seemed to spread with the invisible curls of the perfume until his senses were awash. He tasted the sunlight in her, and the darkness, and it threatened to sweep away that last of his sense. He could only cling to her and the long, slowly sinking kisses.
She laughed against his mouth. “Bend me like your soft metals. Shape me to your dreams.”
A dream. That explained it all. A fever dream, he was so hot with wanting her. His whole body tightened as if from a sunburn, as if he stood too close to his forge.
But it wasn’t a dream, he knew that. She was real, a real woman in his arms. He tried to pull back, to push some fresh air between them, and they both gasped as their lips separated.
The space only gave her room to slide her hands up inside his shirt. The pearl snaps popped one after the other, from navel to neck. Air rushed across his bare chest—like oxygen into a fire—and set his blood raging.