Surprise at his analysis made her lose the fight, hot, stinging tears rushing to her eyes.
Averting them, she whispered, “I never looked at it this way. It just comforted me to look in the mirror and see a reflection of the ones I loved, to hear the name that reminds me of my mother’s soft voice telling me stories in the dark.”
Bringing her eyes back to his with a gentle hand on her cheek, his fingers wiped away the tears that had escaped, his gaze lengthening, deepening, until she felt he’d fathomed her every secret without her needing to tell him any more details.
Suddenly he asked, “How many disguises did you have in your life?”
Blinking to clear her eyes, she attempted a mischievous smile. “Aren’t you all questions tonight?”
His answering smile was equal parts hunger and self-deprecation. “You fascinate me. I thought I was undetectable until you. I’d give anything to pick your brains.”
“Anything?” She ran a finger down his chest, then the groove separating his defined abs, then lower.
“Name your price.”
“Any price?”
He just nodded, his expression avid, his irises looking as if they had the sunset at his back trapped in them.
God, how could anything be so absolutely beautiful?
Sighing, she arched up into his length, ran greedy hands down his muscled back. “You know my price.”
“That’s not a price, that’s a privilege. One I’ll take full advantage of, as soon as you quench my curiosity. So how many?”
“How many personas have I played, you mean? Many.”
“I’m sure you have an exact number.”
“Sixty-seven.”
His eyes snapped wider. He must have expected her to prevaricate, and probably couldn’t imagine someone could have played that many roles.
At length, he said, “Counting the two personas I know?”
“No.”
At her immediate answer, he pursed his lips. “Why not? They are very well-drawn and distinct personas.”
“Just in their different names and life stories.”
“Still claiming you never acted with me?”
“You be the judge of that.” She took one of his hands, guided it beneath her panties. As his fingers slid between her swollen, melting flesh, his erection grew so hard, it hurt poking into her side. “Can this be an act?”
“Not this, for sure.”
Moaning, she opened herself to him, and those long, powerful fingers caressed her feminine lips apart, sawed through her molten need, knowing exactly where and how to press, how hard or soft to rub, how fast or slow to go. She keened, lurched with sensations almost too much to bear. And that was before he dipped two fingers inside her. It again made her feel so acutely how empty she felt. How only having him inside her had ever filled the void.
“Take me, Raiden. No foreplay...please.”