I’d guessed right about Ivan. He was a dominant even though I was certain he had mostly suppressed his natural inclinations whenever we’d been together thus far. I’d caught glimpses of the Dom behavior, of course, but then, coming from him, it turned me on wildly because Ivan Everley pushed every one of my sexual buttons.

I liked how Dom Ivan operated far too much.

Dominants can spot a submissive when they find one, so he’d guessed right about me, too. I couldn’t hide my submissive nature from him any more than I could keep the urges buried any longer when I was with him like this—i.e., naked in his bed, weak from hours of attention from his cock and his hands and his mouth. I could barely hold on to a coherent thought, let alone keep my true desires under wraps.

He just knew.

“What are you asking me to—to do with you?” I still had to know. I needed to hear him lay it all out on the line before us. For me. I needed to hear it in order to go forward. I could literally feel my heart pounding in my chest as I waited for his response.

“I think you know, Gabrielle.” He traced down the side of my face with his finger, and then down my jawbone, further still to my chin before slipping onto the side of my neck to rest it over my pulse point. He pressed in, his finger sinking into the flesh of my neck. “I can feel the blood pumping under my finger. Your pulse is racing. Your perfectly flawless skin is flushed. The idea of my suggestion turns you on.” He pressed his finger just a little harder. “Doesn’t it, Gabrielle?”

Yes. I was in such deep trouble with this man.

His green eyes bored into mine as the pressure of his finger held me frozen, totally under his spell, powerless to turn away from his embrace any more than I could deny the truth in his words. That’s all it took. Just one finger infused with the command of presence that Ivan Everley owned as certainly as he owned the handsome looks and the talented moves in the bedroom. Or art gallery storeroom. Or wedding reception dance floor. Or the interior of a sea plane.

As an involuntary shudder overtook me, the awareness of the strength of my attraction to him, to his wildly unexpected proposal, was very unnerving.

It was also so very tempting.

His response was to bring his lips closer and say, “Don’t overthink. I know that’s what you’re doing.” The press of his lips was as gentle as his kiss, firm but settling. With his tongue licking into me, he breathed, “Trust me, Gabrielle. Just trust me and say yes.”

Damn, he was good.

How in the hell could I resist when we were naked in his bed with his lips on my skin, promising more pleasure than I’d ever known? An impossible feat for a woman much stronger than me, I am sure. I knew I wasn’t ready to give an all-encompassing yes to his proposal, but I could give him an honest answer to his question.