For two years, I’d dreamed of being gazed upon by a man who desired me. A man who didn’t lie or betray or long for another woman when he was with me.

Ashley didn’t just gaze. He narrowed the space between us, enveloped me with his scent I loved so well, and raised a hand toward my chest. Rather than seizing me in a careless grip, he skimmed his palm against me, just a featherlight touch on my nipple.

I whimpered and shivered as a delicious fever sprang to life in my bones, heating deep in my core, and hotter still between my legs. He watched every reaction, his hawk eyes examining my body’s answer to his oh-so-soft caress.

“You’re exquisitely formed.” He molded his fingers around my breast, lifting and testing the weight. “Like a queen.”

“I’m certainly no queen.” My bosom felt so heavy, so swollen with need.

“No, you’re right.” He lowered his mouth to my chest and breathed, “You’re a goddess. A sea goddess.”

He ran the flat of his tongue over the pebbled peak, and my spine bowed in response. A groan vibrated in his throat, and I moaned with him, shaking beneath the heavenly sensations of his warm firm lips. My hands flew to his hair, my nails dragging across his scalp and threading through the glossy black strands.

My head dropped back on my shoulders as he suckled. His hand cupped my backside, and the other plumped up my breast, holding it against his worshiping mouth.

Any second, he would throw up his walls and say something mean to push me away. But for now, I gloried in the unguarded moment, savoring the rush of breaths, the caress of strong fingers, and the masculine sounds of appreciation.

I touched him everywhere I could reach—his bulging shoulders, the hairless bricks of his chest, and the heavily muscled flesh that flexed along his arms as he commanded them to move.

His jaw felt like marble against my breast, where he licked and kissed with devotion. His lips, so soft and full, delivered pure ecstasy when they wrapped around my throbbing nipple.

Fingers fanning down the curves of my waist, he splayed them across my midsection and slowly sank into the valley of my thighs. My bottom teetered on the edge of the table as he teased the dark juncture between my legs, finding my wet curls through the linen.

I realized, truly comprehended, just how very destructive this man was on my life. He hadn’t just physically captured me. He’d besieged my emotions, my reasoning, and he was on his way to imprisoning my soul.

As he leaned back to stare at my glistening, swollen breast, his broad shoulders blocked out the world. All I saw was him and the gorgeous planes of his face in facets of light and dark, silk and steel, kindness and cruelty. And I trembled.

With fear.

With desire.