But it was so much more than mere physical feeling. She loved this man and her heart craved this intimate connection as fervently as her body.
His hands slid over the silk of her dress, caressing her curves and inciting feelings that never ceased to shock her. This was what passion was supposed to feel like—not forced, not muted, but so full, so real that every atom in her body shimmered with delight. His hand skimmed up her calf, taking the dress with it and baring her legs to him. He stopped when his fingertips brushed the apex of her thighs through the sheer lace of her panties.
He groaned and pulled his lips from hers. So he could see what he had touched. "Very sexy."
She couldn't form a word to respond. She looked down at herself, sprawled in abandon across his thighs, her legs spread slightly, her thighs quivering with need. She could smell her own musk and rather than embarrass her, it excited her further to think she could respond so totally to this man's kiss.
His bronzed chest gleamed under the muted light cast by the single torchère lamp she'd left on for her return home. His dark body was such a contrast to hers that she was lost in the visual pleasure for long moments.
"I'd like to see you in front of a fireplace, lying naked on a thick rug. Aroused," she said, shocking herself as she admitted one of her favorite nighttime fantasies out loud.
He didn't look taken aback, though; he looked interested. "There is a fireplace in my bedroom. After we are married, I will be very pleased to see that you get your wish."
"I haven't said I'll marry you." Where the wit to say so came from, she didn't know, but she suspected that self-preservation was as instinctual as sexual intimacy.
"You will."
"Maybe."
He chose that moment to slide his finger up and down along the edge of the scrap of fabric that covered her feminine center. She moaned and arched toward his touch, wanting him to move his finger just a fraction of an inch to the left.
He repeated the caress, his expression feral. "I will convince you."
"You can try," she invited, one hand diving to cup the hardness that proved his desire was every bit as real as hers.
She was not a bold lover, but it was imperative for her newly discovered feelings to make him acknowledge, if only tacitly, that this was far from one-sided.
He gasped and then cursed and it was her turn to smile.
Pleasure zinged through her at his response. Perhaps her lack of boldness in the past was because her single sexual liaison had occurred when she was barely nineteen. Her previous lover had been older and a whole lot more experienced than she.
As Nikos' touch ignited raging fires of need inside her, Ash realized her former lover might have known more, but he had not been particularly good at lovemaking. And that knowledge took away some of the lingering sting the memories had on her emotions. If that man had been as good at evoking a response as Nikos, she would never have escaped the relationship relatively unscathed. She might not have escaped at all, despite what she'd learned back then.
At the time, she'd thought her heart was decimated by his calculation and betrayal, but four years on, she had to admit that it could have been so much worse. That truth served as a chilling reminder for the present, bringing her back to reality with a vicious jerk to her emotions. Because this was Nikos. She did love him and his potential to hurt her was beyond anything she'd ever known.
Terror coursed through her, cooling blood heated by wanton desire.
She'd learned to expect less from her mom, but would she ever be able to affect the emotional distance necessary to accept that kind of relationship with Nikos? She didn't want to, even if she could. She didn't want a half-life in her marriage. She wanted something fully vibrant between them. But was that a fool's dream?
"What is the matter?" He was looking at her face now, his expression marred by a slight frown.
She blinked and stared at him realizing he'd stopped touching her completely. "Nothing."
But it was a lie. Worries were pounding in her mind with painful frequency and power. He could hurt her. So much. Was letting him make love to her the smartest thing she could do? Did she want to give him a bigger hold on her heart than he already had?