Silk and Secrets(98)

Ross, however, appeared to have no complaints. "Were you always this lovely and I forgot?" His admiring gaze was as seductive as a caress. "Or have you continued to grow more beautiful with every year?"

Juliet blushed, glad that it was not the sort of question that required an answer, but his approval was enormously gratifying. She had never felt really attractive except with Ross, and once more he was making her feel like the most desirable woman since Helen of Troy. Deciding that action was the best cure for embarrassment, she said, "It's my turn now," and reached for the buttons of his shirt.

"Soon." Smiling, he touched his forefinger to her lips. "But I'm curious about what has changed, and since the light is dim, I'll have to supplement sight with touch. For example, this appears much the same." He bent his head to her left breast and took the nipple into his mouth. Under the pressure of lips and tongue, it hardened still further. As heat blazed deep inside her, he murmured, "Mmm, exactly as I remember. And your reaction hasn't changed either."

After he had given her other nipple equal attention, he shaped her breasts with thoughtful hands. "There seems to be more fullness here."

"Is that a complaint?" she asked, shifting her weight so that the softer parts of her undulated provocatively.

He caught his breath and for a moment his fingers tightened. "Not in the least."

Then his hands opened and glided down her ribs and waist in a purely tactile exploration of her contours. "So many lovely curves." He circled behind her without breaking contact, then lifted her hair and pressed his lips to the nape of her neck. "All of them elegant."

With leisurely skill he feathered kisses down her spine before turning her to face him. Then he knelt, drawing his palms over her hips and thighs. "A little rounder here as well, in a thoroughly alluring way."

He pressed his face against the curve of her belly, the faint prickle of whiskers a counterpoint to the damp heat of his mouth. As his lips moved lower, he slipped his right hand between her knees and began drawing teasing patterns on the inside of her thighs, his touch drifting gradually upward. Her legs loosened in response, opening in instinctive invitation.

His left hand cradled her right buttock, steadying her, as his fingers brushed through auburn curls, between silky folds, to the searingly sensitive flesh below. Juliet gave a small choked whimper and caught his shoulders for support. She had forgotten, oh, God, she had forgotten, that it was possible to feel like this....

Waves of heat throbbed through her and she was on the verge of falling when he stood and caught her against him with his left arm. The fabric of his shirt and trousers tickled along the bare length of her body when she wilted against his chest, trusting him to support her. As her fingers curled weakly at his waist, his right hand probed deep into her intimate flesh, feeding a fire that threatened to consume her.

She had wanted to please him. Instead he was pleasing her and she was helpless to reciprocate, too dazed, too bewitched, to do anything but stifle her cry against his shoulder as her body closed around his hand with long, voluptuous contractions. His strength was the only constant in a dissolving world.

It took time for her trembling limbs to steady, but when they did, she raised one hand and twined her fingers through his hair, hoping her touch could convey what was beyond the scope of mere words. Ross had always been the most generous of lovers, and that had not changed. She would have fallen in love with him all over again for that generosity, except that she had never fallen out of love, not for a single instant of the last dozen years.

He murmured into her ear, "Sorry, I seem to have been carried away."

He wasn't sorry at all; he sounded thoroughly pleased with himself. She felt an absurd desire to giggle. "I'm not sorry, and I'm the one who needs to be carried away."

He grinned and made a move to bend over and lift her. "An excellent idea. It's time to adjourn to the bed."

"No! Now it's my turn." Her strength was returning; not enough to wrestle a lion, perhaps, but enough. She straightened up and went to work on the buttons of his shirt. When they were undone, she tugged his shirttails loose, then pulled the garment off. "The real reason I behaved so badly at Serevan," she said with a hint of laughter, "was that I wanted to see more of you."

His hand curved up around her neck so that he could stroke the responsive nape. "Shameless woman."

"Absolutely." She skimmed her hands over his bare upper body, enjoying the feel of smooth skin over hard muscle. "I paid for my sins, though, because seeing made me want to touch, but I didn't dare. For example, I wanted to do this."