Run Wild (26 page)

“Samantha,” he asked softly, “are you still afraid of me?”

Her lower lip quivered. “A little.”

He smiled at the open honesty he had come to expect from her. “Do you trust me, at least a little?”

“Yes.”

That made his smile broaden. “What happens between a man and a woman... angel, what you’ve learned about it is all wrong. It isn’t supposed to be about force and pain and hurting someone.”

She looked dubious, uncertain.

“You’ve been made afraid of something that’s a natural, vital part of every man... and every woman.” He stroked his fingers along her jawline. “It’s supposed to be about pleasure. Especially for the woman.”

That made her look downright skeptical.

“When it’s good, when it’s right, it’s the greatest feeling a man and woman can share.” He brushed his thumb over her mouth. “Let me show you, angel.” He phrased it as a question, a gentle entreaty. “Let me show you.”

S
am couldn’t summon a reply, couldn’t even catch her breath. Gazing into his eyes, warmed by his touch, she felt as if she had been swept up into the night sky, spinning among white-hot stars.

Everything seemed to be whirling around her, changing so quickly, leaving her scrambling for something solid to hold on to. But all she could find within herself were new, undefined feelings, too tentative, too fragile for her to depend upon.

Feelings for this man. For a stranger who now knew all of her secrets.

But he wasn’t a stranger anymore.

Nick.

She had shared with him memories and pain that she had never shared with anyone. And as he held her so carefully, his broad hands cupping her face so lightly, she chastised herself for being ten kinds of a fool. How could she have told him everything? Why had she trusted him?

She had every reason to feel wary of this man. Any sensible woman would. He was an outlaw. A rogue who knew too little of kindness, too much of fighting and recklessness and the hard edges of life. Sitting so close beside him, feeling the heat of his body against hers, she felt an uncomfortable shift in the rhythm of her heartbeat.

The hard, muscular planes of his body, his numerous scars, the pitchfork brand all bespoke a life of harshness and danger. He seemed to be made entirely of steel, corded lengths of steel wrapped around iron. As hard and unyielding as the chain that bound the two of them together. A man crafted from and for violence.

Yet he was capable of gentleness, too. And compassion.

She had experienced that herself.

And he awaited her answer. Would she grant him an intimacy she had never granted any man?

Drawing an unsteady breath, she closed her eyes, unable to bear the heat in his gaze and her own uncertainty. She had no need to fear that he might lose control over his unpredictable male hunger. He was clearly in complete control of himself, as he had been all along.

It was her own reactions that alarmed her.

“Nick,” she whispered, “I... I haven’t been entirely honest.”

“I find that hard to believe.” He wasn’t mocking her; his voice was serious.

“It’s true.” She opened her eyes, swallowing hard. “When I said I was still a little afraid of you, it’s... it’s not you that I’m afraid of.” Confessing brought a cascade of heat to her cheeks. “It’s me.”

He smiled as if he understood. “What is there to be afraid of, Samantha?”

“Well, when you... kissed me, I felt so...” She struggled to find words for what she had experienced, felt embarrassed by the memory. Her senses had simply scattered to the winds at the first brush of his lips over hers.

“As if you were hot and cold at the same time?” he murmured, kissing her again, the lightest touch of his mouth this time. “And hungry and thirsty all at once?” He kissed her a third time.

“Yes.” The word came out as a sigh, her lashes drifting downward as she experienced the same breathless, almost dizzy sensation she had felt before. “It’s like a ticklish flutter in my stomach. And—” Another kiss interrupted her explanation. “A funny ache in my throat.”

“And you feel as if you’re melting?...” His hand moved lower, touching her abdomen, his fingers burning her. “Here?”

Her eyes opened wide. “Yes,” she gasped, feeling something powerful unfurl within her, there where he touched her.

“That’s all part of it, angel.” He brushed a kiss through her hair. “Part of every woman and man, part of you. And me.”

The deep, husky tone of his voice sent shivers through her. She gazed at him, felt as if she were seeing him for the first time, found herself noticing things she had never noticed before—the way his beard emphasized the sharp angles of his cheekbones, the deep creases at the corners of his eyes, a small scar on his temple, the stubborn tangle of hair that fell over his forehead.

And his eyes. They held hers the way his hands caressed her cheeks—boldly but gently. Staring into his dark green gaze, she sought any hint of deception but found none. “You mean that
you
feel these same feelings?”

“Yes.”

She looked at him askance, barely able to believe it. In the pool, in his embrace, she had felt herself very close to losing control... yet he seemed so in command of himself.

“Whenever you’re close to me,” he explained when she didn’t speak. “Whenever you touch me... especially the way you did in the cave.”

“Th-that was purely for medical purposes.”

“I didn’t see a cloth in your hand that last time,” he chided, flashing a particularly wicked smile. “You seemed to be enjoying it.”

She dropped her gaze, mortified.

“It’s all right, angel.” He caught her chin on the edge of his hand, tilting her head up. “It’s all right to enjoy touching each other.”

“I-I don’t... I...” Even as she said it, she knew it was a lie.

“You think you
shouldn’t
enjoy it?”

Was that the reason? For six years, she had lived her own life by her own rules, going and doing as she pleased. The word
shouldn’t
had become a part of her past the day she became an outlaw. After so much time on her own, she was used to being in charge of her life, her fate, her feelings. She had come to
like
being in control.

But now it felt as if her confidence had vanished, as if she didn’t even know herself anymore. Nick was no longer a stranger, but now she seemed like a stranger to herself.

Even her fear, her wariness, her caution, so much a part of her for so long, was... missing.

She felt like the earth had disappeared from beneath her and she was falling, tumbling through the night.

And the only solid thing she had to hold onto was... him.

“Nick, I don’t know. It’s... so...”

“New. It’s all new to you, angel. But it’s a natural part of who you are. You’re
meant
to enjoy it, just as you enjoy the moonlight and the wind.” He smiled. “Maybe more.” He leaned closer, nuzzling his cheek against hers, his beard sending a little shiver through her. “Let me show you.”

She made a small sound deep in her throat, but even she couldn’t tell if it was denial or assent.

“We won’t do anything that frightens you,” he assured her. “If you want me to stop, tell me and I’ll stop. If you want me to continue...” He brushed his lips over hers. “Tell me and I’ll continue.”

She was trembling, but the feeling wasn’t unpleasant. Not at all. His mouth felt so warm, his hands so strong, so sure when he touched her.

And he was leaving the decision up to her. She had thought him a callous, unredeemable, selfish rogue... but at the moment he wasn’t being roguish at all. He was being warm, giving.

Caring.

And that, even more than his kiss, made her heart pound so hard that thinking became impossible.

“Samantha?”

“Yes,” she whispered, realizing that her decision had been made perhaps a long time ago. “
Yes
.”

She barely completed the word when he kissed her again, a soft brush of his mouth over hers that deepened into a slow, hot joining. His arm circled her shoulders and he gently lowered her to the ground, leaning over her in the firelight, his weight on his forearms as his mouth worked tantalizing magic over hers.

She had never known how sensitive her lips could feel. Or how fast her pulse could race. She reached up to pull him closer, threading her fingers through the dark hair at the nape of his neck. With a low groan, he captured her wrists, lightly pinning them to the ground on either side of her head.

Understanding what he wanted, she relented, allowing him to take command, letting herself surrender control. Stretched out beneath him on the warm grass, she felt the last of her hesitation burn to ashes in the fire of his kiss. She let go willingly, allowing herself to be completely open to his touch, completely vulnerable in a way she had never been before.

Her display of trust brought a soft sound from him, almost a sigh, a sound of deep pleasure. He lifted his mouth from hers, kissing her jaw, her cheeks, her nose. And when her eyelids drifted closed, he kissed her lashes.

“That’s right, angel,” he whispered. “Close your eyes and just let yourself
feel
.”

He released his hold on her wrists, his hands sliding down her arms, down the sides of her body. Through the thin cloth of her silk gown, she could feel him like a fire in her blood. He nibbled at her ear, began a slow, teasing descent down her throat, his lips and tongue sending a rush of sensations cascading through her.

He caught her skin ever so delicately between his teeth, nipping her in a light, fierce way that drew a cry of pleasure from her parted lips. Arching her neck, she offered herself up to him, to these new feelings that made her feel weak and yet strong all at once.

The night air around her, the leaves overhead, even the ground beneath her seemed to crackle with electricity. Like the heat of a lightning strike. Like a summer storm that drenched the earth with hot rain.

Her heart pounding, she kept her eyes closed as her senses came vibrantly alive, engulfed by his musky, masculine scent, the hardness of his body. By his fingers tracing over her, leaving tendrils of fire in their wake. One of his hands shaped her breast and she tensed, but only for a moment.

Because his touch was tender, careful, almost reverent. She could feel the peak drawing tight beneath his thumb, caught her bottom lip between her teeth to keep from crying out. The barrier of silk and lace between his skin and hers created a dozen different, exquisite textures. A restless heat began building deep within her. He traced his thumb around her nipple in a slow circle, coaxing until it rose to a hard pearl, and her breathing became ragged.

When his hand left her, a low moan of protest slipped from her throat. But then he slid her gown from her shoulder, slowly, inch by tantalizing inch, tugging the lacy bodice lower... baring her to the warm night wind.

And she felt his rough, callused fingertips against her skin, touching her in a way no man had ever touched her before. Her lashes lifted but she managed to remain still, trusting him, her palms upturned on the warm grass. Breathless, she watched him. Watched his dark fingers moving over her, caressing the pale swell of her breast.

And the intimacy felt not threatening but glorious.

His eyes were ablaze as he gazed down at her. His every muscle taut, he stretched out beside her, his own breathing rough. It was only then that she realized how powerfully this simple act of touching her affected him.
He wanted her.
Wanted to do more than kiss her and touch her—but he was holding himself in check. Denying his own need, his own pleasure.

For her.

She closed her eyes again, not wanting him to see the tears that welled there, not wanting him to misunderstand. His generosity, his tenderness, surprised her utterly... and touched her deeply.

A second later he rendered all rational thought impossible as his mouth followed the path his fingers had blazed. His tongue found the sensitive pearl he had coaxed forth, darting out to tease it again and again. When the peak was wet, tight, his lips hovered over her and he blew softly, dragging a low cry from her throat. She arched beneath him, shivering. Wanting. Every part of her ached, both where he kissed and lower.

And then his arm slid behind her back and he drew her up against him, drew her in tight as his mouth closed over her in the most shocking kiss. He took her deeply into the warm, liquid velvet of his mouth and the feeling was like...
hot rain
.

Some hidden, secret part of her, at the very center of her being, trembled and tightened in response as he lavished attention on her, kissing and teasing, gentle and fierce by turns. She felt as if she were soaring, swept upward to a dizzying height she had never experienced before. The sensation was so new, so intense, so unbearably good.

She gave herself over to it, lost in the sensations, her senses so scattered that she barely felt it as he lowered her back to the ground, didn’t realize he had moved his hand.

Until she felt the heat of his fingers on her thigh.

Her breath broke. She trembled beneath him, sensing that she had barely begun to taste the intimacy he meant to share with her. His palm slid downward in a slow caress, seeking the hem of her skirt. Finding it.