She took a long, lazy perusal past his partially lathered face, to his throat, down his body, her gaze lingering as she took in the broad expanse of his bare chest, still damp from the shower. “Mm . . .” The pink tip of her tongue peeked out briefly, moistening her lips as if the sight of his partially naked body had made her mouth dry. A rosy flush stained high on her cheeks, but she didn’t stop her downward trajectory. Her gaze paused at the front of his towel, and her eyes widened. “I remembered thinking you were big that first time I met you, but you’re larger now.”

*   *   *

“Woman.” Mick’s eyes had darkened even further, his voice a low growl. “You are playing with fire.”

“Good.” Sarah arched her back slightly, enjoying the knowledge that she was naked beneath her robe. She could see the exact moment he broke. Was unable to contain her satisfied smirk when he grabbed her hand, yanked her into his room. Gone was the restraint and cautious fragile care with which he had treated her, as if she were made from spun glass. He kicked the door shut and in two seconds flat had her against the wall, her face cradled in his hands as he lowered his head and took possession of her mouth. There was something so heady, so thrilling—as if she were dancing barefoot on the edge of a cliff in a rainstorm—about the way she had snapped his self-control, because she knew on the deepest, most fundamental level that in this man’s hands she was absolutely safe. What a sense of freedom that knowledge created, after years of tiptoeing cautiously through life, to run full tilt into the waves, arms outstretched. She reveled in the animalistic hunger and urgency she had incited in him, her body writhing against his, needing to get closer. She fisted her hands in his hair, which was wet from his shower, pressing him closer still. Wanting everything he had to give and more. A groan erupted from deep in his chest as he captured her lower lip, dragged his teeth over her bruised flesh, then soothed the throbbing ache with his tongue. The slick slide and taste of him against her lips, dancing with her tongue was intoxicating. A revelation. When he pulled back, his breath was ragged and the wanting in his eyes caused her body to heat even more. His pupils dilated with passion, leaving only a narrow circlet of his amber irises visible. She reached up and, using the blade of her hand, tenderly removed the lather from his jawline. The contrast of textures, the thick silky lather against the rough scrape of whiskers was such a turn-on, she had to press her thighs together tight to try to ease the throbbing.