Page 39 of Zane

"I want to know."

"I just decided that I want it to be you, that's all."

"Me as in-" The rest of the words died away when she simply tugged the sheath over her head.

He felt the spit drying up and his throat turning dry. Moonlight spilled into the room, creating shadows along with the candles she had lit, and highlighted her curves. His eyes wandered over the pert breasts with their already rigid nipples, down to her flat stomach and a scrap of red lace that really was not much covering at all.

"Do you like what you see?" Her husky voice had him dragging his eyes to her face. He felt the control slipping away from him. He was supposed to be taking the lead.

"I do. A lot. The champagne--" He gestured to the bucket, desperately thinking that if they slowed things down, he might just recover.

"After." She walked toward him, hips undulating, smile seductive. He wondered if this was how Adam had felt when Eve approached him in the garden. Powerless and speechless.

His limbs felt weak and lifeless. Her scent filled his nostrils, making it difficult to breathe. He felt gauche and stupid, having no idea what to do next.

When she placed her hands on his chest, he felt the burn straight to his bones. It managed to jump-start his response, stir him from his daze. Lifting his hands, he clamped them on her shoulders, fingers biting into her skin. She slid her hands up his chest, admiring the flex of muscles as she wound them around his neck.

"I want to feel you against me," she whispered.

He reacted. The words were like a douse of fire pouring over him. Jerking her closer, he took her lips and took back the control. His hands wandered down her back, burning a fiery trail over the bare skin, skin that felt like silk. Her breasts pressing against his chest branded him with heat, impossible heat.

Her mouth. Christ Jesus! Her mouth tasted like dark honey and was so addictive that he figured he would never get tired of sipping from her. She met his fierceness with a fire of her own, body arching against his. He half lifted her against him, hands wandering up and down her back.

Kara felt the tremors, like shockwaves throughout her body. She also felt his arousal, rigid against her middle. For a few seconds, fear replaced a desire so thick, so potent, she felt as if she was drowning. Fear of the unknown. She was giving herself to this man, throwing away her innocence, and he had no idea.

Zane was so lost in the kiss, in the scent of her, that it took a minute or two to realize that she was pushing against him, that her hands were wedged between their bodies as she tried to create some space.

With a supreme effort, he ended the kiss. His body was thrumming, the blood rushing through him like a tidal wave.

"I have to tell you something. We have to talk."

"We will," he lied. "Just-" When he dipped his head to resume the kiss, she turned her head away so that his lips brushed her cheek.

"Please."

He had to shake his head to get rid of the cloud that had settled there. "I don't think this is the time-"

"It is." She came all the way out of his arms, leaving him bereft.

With a frown, he watched her walk to the bed and turn the colorful quilt down. He wasn't surprised that he hadn't noticed the mound of pretty pillows piled against the sturdy headboard. He had been too busy looking at her.

When she settled back on the pillows and aimed those eyes at him, he felt weak.

"Can you come here?" She held out a hand, and he went to her.

"I just wanted you to know that-" She twined her fingers through his as he sat at her hip. "I'm twenty-eight."

"All right." He stared at her, puzzled. "I'm thirty."

She huffed out a laugh. "Good to know." She stared at their joined hands. "I know you're very experienced."

"Pardon?" He could not believe she was asking about his past relationships.

"I mean, I've read the gossip columns and know you've been with a lot of women," she prodded.

"Kara-"

"That means you're experienced."