She saw Ian’s hands twitch, and the muscles in his throat jumped as he swallowed.
“Come here,” he grated out.
A rush of confidence made her shake her head. “I want to see your tattoos first. All of them.”
His eyebrows went up. Then he leaned back against the sofa and stretched his arms out along the back, opening his legs in a V.
“I’m all yours,” he said.
She stepped into the space he’d made for her and leaned over him to undo his top button. She didn’t meet his eyes, but she felt his gaze on her, hot and hungry.
As she moved to the next button, she glanced farther down his body and felt a sudden flash of lust when she saw the erection pushing against his jeans.
He wanted her.
He wanted her.
The thrill of that knowledge made her slow down as she moved to his third button, letting her hair fall forward to brush against the bare skin she was exposing.
“Vixen,” he whispered, and her lips curved up in a smile.
When she undid the last button, his shirt fell open.
Sweet mother of God.
She’d never seen a male torso like this outside of the movies. Broad, powerful, and with a ridged abdomen that drew the eye even farther downward, towards what was still hidden under blue denim.
There was only one tattoo on his chest. It was a phoenix done in black, the effect like a pen-and-ink illustration.
She gave in to the urge to touch him, letting her fingers trace over the tattoo. His stomach muscles tensed as he sucked in a breath.
“It’s beautiful,” she said softly, her gaze lifting to meet his.
“Kate,” he whispered. “My God, Kate.”
She went still. There was heat and need and passion in his eyes, but also something new. Something she hadn’t seen before.
“Kiss me,” he said, his voice rough and demanding but also beseeching.
Letting herself fall against him was a relief so intense, it was like the cessation of pain. Her breasts pressed against his chest as she slid her arms around his neck, and in the next instant her mouth was on his.
He groaned, and she felt the vibration in her bones. His tongue slid into her mouth and his hands went everywhere, sliding into her hair, roaming down her back, gripping her hips.
When she realized she was rubbing herself against his erection like a cat in heat, she should have been embarrassed. But the fire inside her left no room for anything but need, and instead of pulling away she reached down between their bodies and fumbled for the zipper of his jeans.
He broke the kiss and grabbed her upper arms.
“Wait,” he panted.
“Wait?” she repeated incredulously. The heat and throbbing between her legs was unbearable, and the need to have Ian inside her was not going to be denied.
His hold on her arms tightened, and with a powerful twist he flipped them over so she was on her back beneath him.
The sudden move sent sofa cushions scattering, and Kate sucked in a breath as she stared up into Ian’s face. His eyes were fierce, and the weight of his body on hers was so deliciously perfect that she moaned.
“Why did you say ‘wait’?” she asked. “I don’t want to wait.”
“There are things I want to do to you before my jeans come off.”
And then he was kissing his way down her body, his mouth closing over one breast through the lace of her bra. He covered the other with his hand while she pushed herself into him almost frantically, the sensations he was creating pooling like lava between her legs.
He kissed lower, dipping his tongue into her naval and making her jump. He put his hands on her hips, and suddenly she realized where he was heading.
She gripped his hair. “Wait.”
He looked up at her. “I thought you didn’t want to wait.”
“It’s just . . . I don’t do that. That thing you’re about to do.”
He smiled, but there was nothing reassuring about it. It was more like the smile the wolf gave Little Red Riding Hood.
“That’s right, you don’t.” He paused. “I do.”
He reached up to unhook her bra and slip it off her shoulders. Then his hands were on the waistband of her panties, and he slid them down and off.
She was naked. She was naked, and the lights were on, and Ian had settled between her legs like he was expecting to stay awhile.
“Ian—”
He grinned that wolfish grin again. “My game, my rules. Remember?”
“I—”
“Trust me, Kate. And stop talking.”
He pressed his thumbs into her softest skin, spreading her open. Then his mouth was on her.
Oh, God.
It was so intense she couldn’t stay still. She writhed against him, and when he gripped her hips she had a sudden wild wish that his hands would leave bruises on her body.