Dear God, she felt good. He'd thought to relieve one ache and in the process created another – one that was ten times worse than the first.
He had to touch her, he realized; really touch her, or go mad. The pearl buttons slipped free of the restraining material with little more than a flick of his fingers, her gown spilling open wider and wider, granting him ample room to slip his hand inside.
He sighed out loud as her breast fell into his palm. Her nipple formed a hard bead against him, and unable to restrain himself, he groaned at the small intimacy.
Oh, God, what was he doing? Riley was nearly frantic with the knowledge of how far he'd allowed this little experiment to take him. His breathing was labored and deep. His heart beat high in his throat.
He was about to pull free, thinking he had never sunk lower than he had at that moment, when he noticed Hannah's beautiful gray eyes watching him in the dark.
Then she smiled – the sweetest, most dazzling smile he'd ever seen in his life. It seemed to light up the entire room.
"I remember how you sucked on them," she whispered into the stillness. He remembered, too, and against every dictate of his will he grazed the hard rosy tip with his thumb. He marveled at her quick, ready response.
"Do it again, Riley," she pleaded softly. "Like you did that night."
Riley didn't take the time to think; he couldn't. Instead, he crushed her mouth with his, frightening himself with the powerful need she created in him.
Their kiss was wet and wild. As their mouths ground against each other, Riley cupped her breasts, marveling once more at how incredibly soft her skin felt; softer than anything he'd ever touched. Softer than velvet. Softer than fur or silk.
Consumed in a fire of his own making, Riley slipped his mouth down the ivory perfection of her shoulders and finally to the swell of her breasts. His lips sought the nipple, drawing it forward, feasting on her, suckling until she moaned and arched her hips, seeking the pleasure she'd experienced all too briefly, all those months ago.
Riley longed to show her all the delightfully scandalous things they could do to please each other. But he dared not… not with Hannah. He would shock her, repulse her.
He used his tongue to create a wet, slick trail between her breasts, moistening, laving, sucking. He altered between gentle and not-so-gentle until Hannah raised the entire upper half of her body off the mattress in silent entreaty.
All ten of her fingers dug into his scalp. "Riley," she pleaded, "I need…"
Riley needed her, too. Needed to be released from the desire that was so strong it pained him. So wild it frightened him. So deep it humbled him.
He lifted his head and kissed her, keeping his hands busy molding, kneading, shaping her breasts. God help him, but he couldn't get enough of the feel of her.
Where he found the strength, Riley never knew. Slowly, he drew her head down to his chest and closed his eyes to the agony of physical frustration.
"Riley?"
"Shh… Sleep." He gently stroked her hair, praying, pleading, doing everything he could to force his mind from the beautiful soft woman in his arms.
"Sleep?"
"Sleep," he repeated. "We've both got to work tomorrow."
She was frustrated, too. Unsure. But he wouldn't answer her questions. It took some time before the smooth, even flow of her breathing convinced him she'd drifted off. At least one of them would get some rest that night, but it wouldn't be he.