“I don’t do this.” She pushed back her hair, staring at him as he carried her into the bedroom.

“Do what?”

“Go to a man’s apartment, let him carry me to bed. I don’t do this.”

“We’ll just consider it a change in behavioral patterns then.” He kissed her thoroughly before laying her down on the bed. “Caused by . . .” He paused to light a trio of candles on an iron stand in the corner. “Direct stimulation.”

“That could work.” The candlelight did wonders for an already impossibly handsome face. “It’s just that you’re so attractive.”

He chuckled and slid onto the big bed to nip at her chin. “And you’re so weak.”

“Not usually. Actually, my sexual appetites are slightly below average, ordinarily.”

“Is that so?” He lifted her just enough to slip the jacket away.

“Yes. I’ve found, for myself . . . oh . . . that while a sexual interlude can be pleasant . . .” Her breath caught as his fingers slowly released the buttons of her blouse.

“Pleasant?” he prompted.

“It rarely, if ever, has more than a momentary impact. Of course, that’s due to my hormonal makeup.”

“Of course.” He lowered his mouth to the soft swell of her breasts that rose temptingly above the cups of her bra. And licked.

“But—but—” She clenched her fists at her sides as his tongue swept under the fabric and shot off shock waves.

“You’re trying to think.”

“I’m trying to see if I can.”

“How’s it going?”

“Not very well.”

“You were telling me about your hormonal makeup,” he reminded her, watching her face as he tugged her skirt down over her hips.

“I was? Oh, well . . . I had a point.” Somewhere, she thought vaguely, a shiver going through her as he traced a fingertip over her midriff.

He saw with delight that she wore those sexy thigh-hugging stockings again, this time in sheer smoky-black. He imagined she’d considered that the black bra and panties were proper coordinates.

He thanked God for her practical mind.

“Sybill, I love what goes on under your clothes.”

He moved his mouth to her belly, tasted heat and woman, felt her muscles quiver. She made a helpless little sound in her throat as her body shifted under him.

He could take her anywhere. The power of knowing that flooded him like wine. As he took her, slowly now, wanting them both to linger at each stage, he let himself sink.

He peeled those stockings down those lovely, long thighs, following the path with his mouth all the way to her toes. Her skin was creamy, smooth, fragrant. Perfect. And only more alluring when it quivered lightly under his.

He slipped fingertips and tongue beneath that silky fantasy snug over her hips in teasing strokes so that she arched, shuddered, and moaned. Heat was there. Centered just there. Wet, arousing heat.

And when the teasing drove them both mad, he stripped that barrier aside and plunged into the hot taste of her. She cried out, her body rising, her hands fisting in his hair as he spun her to peak. When she was limp and gasping he took more.