Rana cried his name and buried her fingers in the thick mass of his hair. She bent her head over his, squeezing her eyes closed. Her breath came out in rapid little pants that had a way of getting trapped in her throat. Each sweet tugging motion of his mouth coaxed a responding contraction from her womb. She grew moist with need.

As though her body had silently telegraphed that need, his hands reached for the hem of her skirt and raised it. When she felt his hands on her thighs, she shuddered. His callused palms created an exciting friction against the smooth length of her thighs. She held her breath in expectation. Surely he wouldn’t. Not here. Not now.

But Trent was driven to discover. And then to know, and know thoroughly.

His hands smoothed all the way up her thighs, enjoying every silky inch. They settled on her hips. He pressed his thumbs against her hipbones and rotated them slowly, mesmerizingly, while his fingers bit deep into her derriere.

Then his thumbs met at her navel and traveled down over the satin smoothness of her panties, disappearing into the V of her femininity.

Rana gasped. Her hands gripped his shoulders out of fear of falling, or of flying out of the universe. She no longer felt earthbound. Gravity had no power over her like the touch of Trent ’s hands.

Her breath shuddered in and out when he slipped his hands beneath the waistband of her panties and eased them down. Bravely she opened her eyes and met his. They were hot. Even in the darkness, she could see them burning. It never occurred to her to protest. She didn’t want to. Her body was yearning for his possession.

She stepped out of her panties with a remarkable lack of awkwardness. His mouth rewarded her with another searing kiss. His tongue was intent. Each stroking caress was executed with full concentration.

His mouth moved down her neck, leaving hot, random kisses in its wake. Her heart soared when his lips fastened onto her breast again. He caressed the nipple with lazy circles and airy brushes of his tongue.

She sobbed.

He touched her.

She enveloped his fingers in honeyed heat.

He caressed, slowly and gently, creating never-ending spirals of pleasure.

She felt her body quicken.

With his fingertips he coaxed her to surrender.

She did.

Wave after wave of blissful sensation cascaded over her. She trembled with each fiery inundation. They seemed to go on forever. When the last one finally receded like the lacy benediction of a wave against the shore, where sparkling bubbles burst and were absorbed into the sand one by one, she wanted to leave her eyes closed and sleep forever.

But she felt his breath against her cheek as he kissed it gently. She opened her eyes. Trent was staring down at her with a tender smile curving his beautiful mouth.

But his body wasn’t as serene as his face. She could feel the tension of passion as yet unleashed. He worked his hand between their bodies and opened his jeans.

His hands cupped her bottom. He lifted her up and spread her thighs over his lap until she was straddling it. He slipped inside her, and her head fell forward onto his shoulder as they sighed their mutual gratification.

He was so warm, so smooth, so hard. The petals of her body closed around him. He moaned his supreme pleasure. And it was the dearest sound she had ever heard. She had pleased someone and it had nothing to do with how she looked.

He reached high, and she gloried in the strength and power of his possession. Her soft whimpers told him so. For her, he wanted to be better than he’d ever been. He kissed her breasts lingeringly, lovingly.

Rana didn’t think it was possible, but she felt new stirrings of desire deep within her. With each searching motion of his body, the desire escalated, until she was racing toward the precipice of reason again.

He waited, baring his teeth with the effort to hold back. Only when her crisis came did he relax his control. Then he experienced a release so complete, so wondrous that it shook not only his body, but his heart and soul as well.

Damply, weakly, they clung to each other. Their hearts beat in time. His breath fanned her shoulder where he rested his head. Hers soughed against his throat.

The rain tapping at the windows was like background music now. The ticking of the clock on the mantel in the parlor could be heard faintly over their harsh breathing and the pounding of their hearts.

At last he set her down. Then he pulled her close and hugged her tight. He was amazed that she was so slight. His arms encompassed her with room to spare. He planted a tender kiss on the crown of her head.

Wordlessly taking her hand, he led her toward the stairs. He went ahead, but kept his eyes on her as they made the long, slow climb to the second story. He pulled her inside his bedroom and pushed the door closed, shutting the world out. Leaving her to stand in the middle of the room, he went to the bed and turned it down. Then he extended his hand to her and nodded toward the bed.

“We have to talk,” she said huskily.

“No, we don’t.”

Slowly he began unbuttoning his shirt. Rana’s breasts ached with reawakening desire. He peeled the shirt off and tossed it heedlessly onto the floor. Hooking his thumbs in the waistband of his jeans, he pulled them down.

When he straightened up, he was naked. And splendid. He came swaggering toward her across the shadowy room. The watery light from the windows cast beguiling, fluid shadows over his nakedness. She wanted him again.

Her arms dangled loosely at her sides, a testimony to her compliance. Without a word he pulled her unbuttoned blouse from the waistband of her skirt. It joined his shirt on the floor. He eased the straps of her slip down her arms and lowered it as far as her waist. His hands made one tender pass across her breasts. He dipped his head and touched the crest of one with his tongue; then, because it performed with such feminine beauty, he dallied there longer than he had planned.

“ Trent,” she gasped when she felt her knees about to buckle beneath her.

“Shhh.”

He unbuttoned her skirt with dispatch and pulled it and the slip down to the floor. They faced each other naked. He swept her up in his arms and deposited her lovingly on the bed, then followed her down, covering her.

She welcomed his weight. It pressed her into the mattress, and she loved the feeling. He was hard and heavy. She ran her hands down the supple expanse of his back and over his buttocks. She’d never had access to a man like this before. His sheer masculinity was a curiosity she wanted to explore and examine. Playfully she dug her short nails into his buttocks, and he grinned.

She kissed him. Wantonly.

He kissed her. Wetly.

He slid his tongue in and out of her mouth until she was breathless. “Still want to talk?” he drawled as his parted lips meandered over her neck and chest.

“We should.” She moaned when he covered her nipple with his mouth, rubbed it with his tongue.

“You’ve never learned to relax, Miss Ramsey.”

He moved lower, kissing her stomach as he went. She shivered with carnal delight. His tongue dipped into her navel, laved it thoroughly.

“ Trent?”

“Hm?”

Instinctively she drew her knees up. He positioned himself between them.

“We really should-”

His next caress was so giving, so unselfish, it stopped her words… her heart.

“This is what we should be doing,” he whispered against her softness. “And I intend to go on doing it for a long, long time.”