The result of hard outdoor labor was what she saw now. Acres of bronzed muscles spanned his broad chest, covered in a light patch of brownish-gold hair that arrowed down his hard stomach…where more stacked muscles vied for attention.
A shirtless Rhystan wasn’t anything she hadn’t seen before on the Belonging—she’d gawked enough from her perch on deck. But ogling from afar and knowing she was seconds away from running her fingers over all those mouthwatering ridges and valleys were two vastly different things. She swallowed hard as his fingers unbuttoned his trousers, letting them gap open to hang on his narrow hips as memories of his cabin swamped her.
Pausing, his eyes lifted, his gaze full of wickedness. “More?”
“Definitely more.”
With a grin, he gave her what she wanted, shoving the fabric down until he was standing there like a proud warrior god. Nude, muscled, spectacular. All he was missing was a wreath of laurel leaves and a sword.
Well, she supposed he did have a sword of sorts. Her eyes dipped to view a very prominent, large, heart-palpitating weapon jutted from his groin. Her mouth dried as her gaze dashed away, a hand flying up to her throat. Sarani couldn’t breathe because her damned lungs refused to work.
“Guh…”
And evidently, intelligent speech had deserted her as well.
Rhystan grinned and joined her on the bed. Despite her momentary panic—she was not uninformed in the ways of carnal joining, after all—Sarani gave in to her desires, letting her palms run over his thick arms. “No wonder you’re so strong,” she murmured. “You’re as hard as rock.”
“Lately, my natural state where you’re concerned,” he said with a pointed look down.
He was teasing her, but yes, that was hard, too. A sudden burst of nerves skittered through her. Was she really going to do this? Give him her maidenhead? Offer him her body without the vows of marriage in place?
Sarani almost laughed out loud. Given Rhystan wasn’t wearing a stitch of clothing and she wasn’t covered in much more, they were quite beyond the point of misgivings. But a lifetime of indoctrination regarding a woman’s place and a woman’s worth did not vanish so easily.
His fingers caressed her cheek, his gray-blue eyes the color of a brewing storm. “What is it? You don’t have to do this.”
“No, I want to do this. With you.” She searched for the right words, wanting to articulate what she felt. “Right here and right now with nothing between us…no titles, no rules, no duty. Just you and me. A man and a woman making a choice to…” Make love.
It wasn’t love. Sarani knew that.
She bit her lip, cheeks going hot. “Do what we’re doing.”
“Fucking,” he said helpfully.
“Must you be so vulgar?”
He kissed her, biting her lower lip and tugging on the ties to her night rail. The garment loosened with shameless ease, pooling to her hips in a glimmer of silk and lace. “You like it.”
“I do,” she admitted on a moan as his clever mouth dipped to find her bare breast.
“You have the most beautiful nipples, Sarani.” Goodness, she loved it when he called her by her real name and not Sara as she insisted. It made her think that his affection hadn’t all been burned away by betrayal. “Your skin is like velvet, and I want to gobble you up.” He tossed away the night rail and lowered her to the bed before turning his attention to her other breast. She whimpered as his teeth grazed the sensitive peak. “Tell me what you want.”
“You,” she said breathlessly.
His hands slid down to cup between her legs, and Sarani arched beneath him, a shock of hot need blooming beneath his palm. “You need to be more specific,” he said, kissing up her throat. “I need to be certain.”
His grinning mouth captured hers in a drugging kiss. Goodness, he was ruthless. She squirmed under him, knowing exactly what he wanted her to say and shying away from it. She couldn’t possibly be so crude. “I…I want you to take me.”
“Take you where? To the theater? The opera?”
“Brute!”
Sarani would have shoved him away if what he was doing with his tongue wasn’t so heady. He was back to her breasts, alternating between her pebbled nipples, and as it was, she was hard-pressed not to have her eyes roll back in her head from the pleasure streaking through her.
“Tell me, Sarani, what do you want?” He pressed one finger between her slippery folds. “Do you want this?”
“Yes,” she gasped, rolling her hips to increase the delicious friction.
He withdrew his finger, the cruel wretch, caging her against the mattress with his big, heavy body. “Then say it. Say the dirty, filthy, vulgar word.”
“Fine. I want you to…fuck me. Happy?” Her cheeks flamed, but strangely, the crass demand made her feel powerful, especially when she saw the answering flare of his irises. That she could reduce the dominant, formidable man above her to a mass of want and desire made her feel bold. “I need you inside me, Rhystan. Now.”
Her smug-faced lover rewarded her with a deep kiss and then positioned himself on top of her, his hips in the cradle of hers. “As my princess wishes.”
“I’m not a princess.”
Sarani stared at him, seeing nothing but hunger for her in those beautiful storm-ridden eyes. There was no judgment there, only need. A need that was deeply, fiercely reciprocated.
“No,” he whispered, notching himself at her entrance. “You’re a queen.”
And then he slid into her body.
Sarani nearly screamed, clutching at his shoulders. The fit was distressingly tight, the friction almost impossible to bear as her untried body adjusted to his size.
“Sarani? Are you all right?” Rhystan’s face was strained, a muscle flexing in his cheek.
“Yes,” she said. “But go slowly. Are you in pain?”
He shook his head. “No. You feel so good. So tight.”
Only when he was finally seated did she attempt to pull a breath into her lungs. The movement pushed her breasts into his chest, the rub of his hair against her sensitive nipples making pleasure spiral through her. She felt so full, so deliciously full of him as her body accommodated his alarming girth.
“Oh, my word,” she blurted out. “That was rather not what I expected. Then again, it’s simple mathematics—volume and displacement really. I should not have been surprised, given your dimensions.”
“Dimensions?”
A smile stretched his lips, one brown brow arching with amusement. She was babbling like a lunatic, while he was still seated inside her.