A shot of raw and carnal pleasure raced through her when he responded with a gasp, his fingers tightening against her scalp. His excitement ignited her blood. Never had she felt anything like it, and her teeth raked against his lips, hungry for him, craving more. Then his hand was at her breast, a firm stroke, a squeeze of her flesh while he held her mouth pressed hard to his and the knife was in her hand as she jerked away.

She hovered over him, ragged breaths, body still feverish and wanting him even as she held the blade to his breast. The knife – she had drawn it almost without conscious thought, muscle and bone reacting to threat.

She would not hurt him. She never would. Only he must not grab at her like that, so sudden and controlling.

He was holding his breath, his whole body tensed. She could feel the confusion in him beneath the alarm. The dagger between her breasts remained, hanging heavy inside the linen. It was the little silver knife from her garter she had pulled, one that he probably did not even know she wore. She waited until his eyes moved from the gleam of metal to her face, and then tried to conjure words to answer his look, to explain.

But she did not have to. He seemed to understand without words. He held her gaze and took his hands away from her hair, her body, a slow retreat until they rested at his sides. He lay there prone, undefended, an offering. His eyes moved to her mouth, a hungry look that beckoned her to kiss him again. And she wanted to, more than she wanted to try to explain anything. She bent down to his lips, inviting the warm thrust of his tongue, keeping the blade in her grip but moving it away from him as she stroked her other hand over his hip again.

She pushed the linen away to bare all his body to her touch, her look. The curve of muscle on his chest fascinated her, the plane of his abdomen, the hard flesh jutting out at her from the join of his legs. She touched him in gentle exploration, marveling at the feel of him, solid and warm. When her fingertips scraped across his nipple, he let out a harsh breath that thrilled her. Her hand moved along the curve of his inner thigh, soft and vulnerable, and she could feel how he held himself taut, all the power and desire in him restrained, held in check. For her.