“Take off the jacket and sweater.”

She arched a brow. “You’re such a romantic, Muldoon.”

“Can it. I want to see your neck.”

“It’s fine.”

“Which is why you’re wearing a sweater that comes up to your chin.”

“It’s very fashionable.”

“Peel it off, babe, or I’ll have to do it for you.”

Her eyes lit. “Ah, threatening a public official.” After kicking off her shoes, she tossed up her chin. “Try it, Buster. Let’s see how tough you are.”

She didn’t put up much of a fight, but the initial wrestling was enough to arouse them both. By the time he had her pinned to the couch, her arms over her head and her wrists cuffed in his hand, they were both breathing hard.

“I took it easy on you,” she told him.

“I could see that.” Her jacket was crumpled on the floor beside them. Smiling, Zack began to inch her sweater upward, letting his fingers skim over the silky material beneath.

Her breath caught, and released unsteadily. “That’s not my neck,” she managed as his hand cupped and molded her breast.

“Just checking.” Watching her, always watching her, he teased the nipple until it was hot and hard. “You’re quick to the touch, Rachel.”

His touch, she thought, trembling. Only his.

Slowly, determined to savor every moment, he slipped the sweater up. He released her wrists to tug it off, then clasped them again.

“Zack.”

He ignored her flexing hands. “My turn at the helm,” he said quietly. “I told you once I wanted to drive you crazy. Do you remember?”

He was. He already was. “I want to touch you.”

“You will.” He skimmed a fingertip over her neck first, carefully studying the bruises. They were fading to yellow. “I don’t want to see you hurt again.” Gently he lowered his head to trail a necklace of kisses over the marks. “Not ever again.”

“It doesn’t hurt.” Her pulse jackhammered under his nuzzling lips. “I don’t need to be seduced.”

“Yes, you do. But you’re afraid to be, which makes the whole idea damn near irresistible. You’re just going to have to trust me.” He shifted so that he could unzip her skirt and slip it off. “I have places to take you.” His mouth lowered to hers, rubbing, then nibbling. “Strange, wonderful places.” Then diving deep.

The journey wasn’t calm, but she had no choice but to go where he took her. This eagerness for pleasure, this immediacy of need, was still so new that she had no defense against it. His hand slid over her, lingering here, exploiting there, while his mouth devoured hers with a relentless hunger.