Shadow Reaper (Shadow #2)(109)

She allowed her gaze to drift over his face. Her fingertips went to the scar, tracing it from his eye, following the curve to the corner of his mouth. He'd gotten that scar saving her life. The ones on his chest had been put there for the same reason. She slid her hands around his neck and locked them there. For whatever reason, Ricco Ferraro wanted her, and she was going to have him. Again, she knew it was her choice. Having him for one night, or a few nights, and walking away brokenhearted was better than never having him at all. He was her choice.



Using her hands, she brought his head down to her uplifted one and took his mouth. The man could kiss. The moment her lips touched his, featherlight, teasing, tracing his lips with her tongue, his hand slid up her back to bunch her hair in his fingers. How he could hold her so close, so steady, without so much as a tremble she didn't know  – or care  – because she had her mouth on his and it was …  perfection.



       
         
       
        



He took over the kiss, deepening it. She followed his lead, tasting his hot, masculine flavor, savoring it, wanting to devour him. He kissed her over and over and she found herself drowning, every nerve ending on fire for him, so aware of him, of the muscles rippling against her bare skin as she floated through the air like some princess in a fairy tale.



He carried her through the house straight to the master bedroom. His territory, where he'd said no woman had ever been. She literally felt as if she were floating, his mouth on hers, kissing her senseless, as he took her through the spacious halls straight to his bed.



He stripped the comforter off while holding her with one arm, still cradled in tight against his chest. That ability was enough to take her breath away. Then she was on the cool, silk sheets, sprawled out on his bed, eyes on his, because there was no looking away from him. Even if she did, it wouldn't have mattered. He was all she could see. Everything she could want.



Ricco stood at the bottom of the bed, his hands on his drawstring pants, but his gaze on her. "You're so beautiful."



She smiled at him. She couldn't help it. He made her feel beautiful. "You did suffer a major blow to the head. Sooner or later you're going to come to your senses." That much was true, but in the meantime, she was going to enjoy every single second with him. "You have too many clothes on."



He did. He so did. She had dreamt of his naked body entwined with hers, and that had been long before she met him  – when she was doing research on him. She'd seen photographs taken of him in a hot tub with the Lacey twins, his bare chest showing. She'd been a little disappointed that he wasn't standing. To her, he was physically gorgeous. She was grateful to realize that everything she'd learned about his character matched his body. He was a good man, a really good man.



"I don't want to scare you off," he teased, his thumbs in the waistband of his trousers. They sat low on his hips and he looked delicious standing there with that confident smile that bordered on arrogant.



She smiled and shook her head slightly. "That's not possible." This night was for her. She hoped she'd be memorable enough that he'd always cherish their night together. She knew she would. The movement of turning her head reminded her she had her hair up and she'd used long pins to secure it. She reached to take them out.



"Don't take the pins out of your hair, let me." He pushed the material down his hips, his gaze holding hers.



She couldn't help but look. She knew her eyes went wide and she remained staring. "You aren't going to fit." There was disappointment in her voice. 



He laughed softly. "I'll fit, farfallina. You were made for me."



She tried not to look skeptical, but when his laughter reached his eyes, she knew she hadn't succeeded. He knelt on the foot of the bed looking so intimidating she had the unexpected urge to fling herself off the bed into the nearest shadow. God, he was beautiful, such a predator, a man born to ride shadows and dispense justice. His hips were narrow, his chest defined with heavy muscles that rippled along with his abs that she was a little jealous of. She couldn't help but look lower, her breath catching in her lungs. "You really are a beautiful man."



His smile tugged at her heartstrings. She hadn't noticed him smiling with others. She felt like he'd given her a gift when he gave her that slow, sexy smile that lit the dark of his eyes. He caught her ankles and tugged her legs apart, all the while keeping his gaze on hers. That was what allowed her to obey his unspoken command and spread her legs for him.