She threaded her fingers through his dark hair, feeling finally and completely sure. “Jak, when I walked out the door, the only thing I felt was regret. I wanted to be in here with you. I won’t let being afraid stop me.”
“All right, then,” he breathed, placing a kiss light as a butterfly on her temple. Then to her other temple, then on each eyelid as they fluttered closed. She held still for it, resting her hands folded in her lap as he rained gentle kisses over her skin. Letting the sensations soak in, allowing Jak in all his masculine exuberance to permeate her. So much passion in him, so much need, his edges sharp.
But his desire was tempered by love. And that felt sweet as water in the desert, softening the parched soil of her heart. Perhaps she’d grown so accustomed to walling out emotions that she’d gone too far, repelling the good along with the uncomfortable. Still, it took more effort than she liked to stay with him. Part of her waited, tense with anxiety, expecting pain.
“How are you doing in there?” Jak murmured against the corner of her mouth.
She opened her eyes, finding him regarding her intently. “This is nice.”
He cracked a dubious half smile. “Hmm. Nice isn’t what I was going for.”
“It’s good,” she assured him. “Is this all right with you?”
Narrowing his gaze, he feathered light fingers down her throat and over her collarbones. “I’m not the one we’re focusing on here. I want this to feel good to you.”
“It does feel good,” she insisted.
“But Jak?” he teased.
And she sighed. “It’s a lot. I feel… vulnerable.”
Sitting back on his heels, he took her hands—having to gently pry them apart, she realized, so she made herself relax—and set them on his naked shoulders, moving them so her hands glided over his skin. “Isn’t that part of lovemaking—to be vulnerable to each other?” he asked.
Catching her breath at the delight of touching him, she nevertheless cocked her head in curiosity at that. “Is it? Nobody talks about it that way.”
He smiled ruefully. “I suppose that’s true. People tend to talk about the clash and storm of it. But it’s more than that. It’s this.” Now that she’d taken over touching him, he stroked gentle fingers over her throat again, tracing the sensitive skin between her breasts, watching her face as she stilled at being touched there. “We can stop,” he reminded her, “if it’s too much.”
“I’m not afraid.”
He cocked his head at the nails she was digging into his chest.
“Oh!” Abashed, she released her grip on him and healed the marks she’d left. “I’m so sorry.”
“Don’t be. That’s part of it, too. As long as that’s coming from a place of desire, not fear.”
“It’s some of both,” she admitted. “But I don’t want to let fear hold me back anymore.”
“I can understand that.” Moving slowly, he eased in, pressing his lips to the tender skin between her breasts, stroking with long, hot licks of his tongue, sending waves of heat through her. Letting out a long breath, she sighed in pleasure, arching her spine to offer more. Her breasts swelled, nipples peaking again, and Jak made an answering sound, sweeping his hands up her bare back under her hair, encouraging the yielding, his mouth feasting on the skin revealed by her gown.
She clung to his shoulders, enveloped in their twining desire, wanting to be overwhelmed now, needing him to sweep away her thoughts. Anchoring her with one corded arm, he set a hand on her hip, caressing upward until it rested just below her breast. He trailed his teeth lightly over the exposed inner curve of her breast, humming when she moaned. Dipping his tongue beneath the confining satin of the bodice, he sought untouched skin—and cupped her breast.
She stiffened in surprise at how his hand relieved the empty ache. When he paused, she pushed her breast into his hand. “Don’t stop,” she pleaded.
With a low chuckle, he squeezed, lightly massaging the fabric-covered side, kissing and licking the bare skin of the other. And, trapped between the two, her nipple stung with a sweet, tingling ache. When his thumb brushed over the turgid nub, she cried out at the intensity of it.
Still holding her, brushing her nipple, Jak lifted his head to kiss her softly and lingeringly. “Is that a good scream or a bad one?”
“I didn’t scream,” she gasped, wriggling against his touch.
“Good scream, then,” he decided, a smug note in his voice. “By the way, screaming is most welcome. Especially my name.”
“I don’t—Jak!” His name ripped out of her as he firmly pinched her nipple.
“Exactly like that.” Backing off, he helped her to her feet. “As you know, I love this dress, but how do I get you out of it—do I have to cut it off?”
“They did sew me into it, but I don’t want it ruined. I’ll shift, so I can keep it.”
“As much as I’d enjoy the process of stripping you naked, that’s probably a good plan,” he conceded, stepping back to give her room.
Deciding that this bandage would sting less if quickly removed, when Stella shifted back to human form, she came back naked.
And immediately regretted the choice, covering herself with her hands, knowing she was blushing furiously. Jak made no move toward her but smiled warmly, dimples deepening as he took her in. “So beautiful,” he murmured. “But why hide yourself from me?”
“I don’t know,” she answered in a pained whisper.
“The vulnerability thing?” he asked, easing closer, stroking his hands down her arms, the way she’d seen him soothing the horses.
“Maybe,” she allowed. He moved her hair behind her shoulder and kissed the side of her neck, renewing the heat that seemed to rise at his command. “It’s funny,” she continued, tipping her head to the side, allowing him in to kiss and taste more, “I used to love being naked as a little girl.”
“I’ve heard the stories,” he murmured, laughter in his voice. “Queen Amelia despairing of keeping you clothed, and you running naked through fancy balls.”
She groaned, a small part from embarrassment and a great deal from his teeth closing with gentle insistence at the juncture of her neck and shoulder. “Princesses don’t run around naked,” she said, mimicking her mother’s exasperation. “It took her so long to drill that into my head that now I…”
“Don’t want to run around naked anymore?” Jak asked with a teasing smile.
“I suppose so,” she conceded.
“Maybe that means you should.”
“What?” Scandalized, her cheeks flaming, she clutched her hands over herself even tighter.
“Run,” Jak repeated, letting go of her and taking several steps back. “Naked. I’ll give you a head start.”
“But Jak, I—”
“Better run,” he interrupted, “because when I catch you, I’m going to do obscene things to that gorgeous body.”
Crouching, he flexed his hands, his grin full of wickedness, thoughts giving her glimpses of—Oh my. With a squeal, she turned and ran.
It wasn’t a big room, but he also didn’t try very hard to catch her. She ran, dodging furniture, darting past his reaching hands, shrieking with laughter. Heedless of her nudity—freed by it—she scrambled across the bed when he trapped her in the corner, squealing when he caught her by the ankle, which became a triumphant hoot as she managed to extract herself and bounce to the other side.