She shook her head. She was trembling all over now. So hot. So needy, and he still hadn’t even really touched her.

“I’m going to do whatever the hell I want to do,” he said softly and gripped her hips in his hard hands.

The breath slammed out of her. She actually began to feel a little feverish. A little desperate for him. She wanted to plead with him to stop talking and get to it, but she knew that if she did, he’d make her wait longer, building that tension already coiling so tight in her body.

His hooded eyes moved over her then, his carved features stamped with possession. His hands followed his gaze, moving down from her shoulders to her breasts. She waited, holding her breath, needing him to suckle, to lavish attention, to tug and roll her nipples the way he did, but his palms just slipped over her curves and moved down her rib cage to her waist and then lower to her belly.

“I’d like to see that tattoo on you, baby,” he said. “On the small of your back, but right here, I’d like a little ring so I could put a chain around your belly and play with it when I make love to you.”

He was killing her. It took every ounce of self-control she had not to allow her legs to shift restlessly, or her hips to move. He was killing her with the soft brush of his fingers and his erotic images.

“Would you do that for me?”

“If you asked me to,” she admitted. Because she’d do anything for him to make him happy. If that was really something that mattered to him, then it mattered to her. She didn’t mind tattoos. In fact, she loved his. She’d never thought about piercings, but a small belly ring might be sexy.

“If I asked you to?” he repeated, his hands sliding lower to frame her mound and then slip lower still to sweep over her inner thighs. He frowned a little.

“I meant if I thought it mattered to you,” she hastened to explain. It was difficult to think straight when her body was on fire. “I’ve never considered either, and I really like tattoos. I hadn’t thought about a belly ring, but it might be nice.”

“You’d do it for me if it mattered to me?”

His eyes were back on hers and her stomach did a crazy flip. She’d said the right thing, she could see how pleased he was. Her answer mattered to him whether she did it or not. She loved that she’d put that look in his eyes.

“Of course. I like doing things for you,” she admitted.

His smile took her breath away. He stretched out on the bed, on his belly and put her legs over his shoulders. Her breath hitched again. He looked so sexy, his gaze focused now, this time on the junction between her legs. He looked hungry, like a predatory animal about to feast. The raw sensuality was carved deep into the lines of his face and there in his eyes.