Breathless, she pulled away for air, but it was only to have her lungs seize in her chest. His index finger played over the stretch of skin right above where her towel was tucked, teasing at the terry cloth.

“Can I?”

He sounded as lost in this as she was, as turned on and wanting. She tilted her head up, stretching her neck to sip from his lips one more time. Her heart thundering against her rib cage, she released the kiss and moved so she could look into his eyes.

Her voice seemed to echo in the room. “Yes.”

chapter ELEVEN

It was all Rylan could do to keep his movements even and slow, building up the anticipation as he unwrapped Kate like a gift. She’d been so squirrelly about letting him see her really naked the night before, and those hints of uncertainty still lingered in the way she braced herself.

Fear had no place in his bed. He was going to have to teach her that. Again.

Leaving one hand on her cheek to keep her angled toward his mouth, he worked the other one under the fabric of her towel. The cloth gave way with the slightest nudge, going loose across her breasts, and he closed his eyes as he nipped at her lips. He was hard as diamond against her spine, and he needed to pace himself if he was going to make this good.

It was the work of a moment to get himself back under control. Gently, carefully, he peeled one side of the towel away, and then the other. Her breathing picked up as he revealed her. With the lightest touch, he traced his fingertips through the valley of her breasts. Her skin was so smooth, water-warm from her shower, a delight against his palm as he let it graze across her nipple. A high-pitched little noise leaked from her lips at the touch. He left her wanting, though, drifting lower, down the soft planes of her abdomen.

Just before he reached her cunt, he paused. She’d been so wet last night, so sweet against his tongue, and he wanted to feel that again. But he had a game plan for tonight.

He let his other hand slide from her face, teasing the line of her throat before grazing lower. Overlooking the way she tensed, he parted his lips from hers, opening his eyes and shifting to look down the length of her body where it was splayed out before them.

The sheet lay across her thighs, barely obscuring the sweet, dark triangle of her pussy from his view, but the rest of her was entirely on display. And what a sight it was.

Her breasts weren’t large, but they were soft and round, her nipples a dusky rose, hard and pointed where they peaked. He drew his hands back up her body to cup the fullness of those curves.

“Do you like that?” he asked as she shivered.

She nodded, but was squirming. Uncomfortable, and he had to remind himself that he was trying to show her something here.

“Has anyone ever done this before? Given this much attention to just touching you?”

“No.”

“Idiots.” There were treasures here—pleasures so much greater than a quick come in a warm hole. But here was the real question. “Did you ever ask them to?”

She laughed, and it was a sad thing that made his frustration boil even hotter.

“You’ve been sleeping with idiots,” he repeated. He kissed the shell of her ear, wet and slow. “Here’s the trick. You can get a man to do all kinds of things. But you have to tell him what you want.”

Uncertain silence met him at that. It was no surprise, but it still bothered him.

“Come on,” he said, more taunting. “You never miss a chance to give me a hard time. What’s holding you back now? You can tell me you want me to suck on your tits.” He said it as crudely as he could think to, and the way her throat moved, the way her spine pressed against where he was still so damn hard for her confirmed that it had been the right move. “Or touch your cunt.”

Her hips tilted forward at that, and she shifted, like she was trying to cross her legs, and no. There wasn’t going to be any of that. In a deft maneuver, he hooked his ankles over hers, holding her open.

“Don’t close up for me now,” he murmured. With a last stroke of his thumbs across her nipples, he dropped his hands to her thighs, running them up and down the smooth flesh, nudging the sheet lower with every pass until he could see everything. He edged higher, slipped his fingers along the creases where torso met leg, so close to where she wanted him—so close to where he wanted to be.

“Why are you so afraid of this?” he asked.

“Not afraid.” She could have fooled him. Her voice shook with it.

“No? You could barely even admit to me that you’d gotten yourself off before. Still can’t tell me what you want me to do to you.” And he was getting into dangerous territory here, he knew. “Those other men. The ones who never made you come. Could you tell them what to do?”

She shook her head, but there was something anguished about it. “This isn’t as easy for everybody else as it is for you. Girls, we—” She cut herself off.

“What?” He gave her a second to finish her thought, but when she didn’t he could guess where she was going with it. “What? You don’t want to seem easy? Or like you know what you’re doing? Well, let me assure you.” He dragged his hands all the way up her body again, over her breasts and then down to hover once again above her cunt. “There is nothing sexier than a woman who knows what she wants. Nothing.”

“But—” The words sounded choked. “I can’t.”

Couldn’t what? Talk about it?

And then it occurred to him—the most brilliant idea he’d ever had. His cock throbbed at the thought of it. He moved his right hand to put it on top of hers. Lifted them both and brought them to her thigh.

His throat bobbed. “Can you show me?”

Kate felt all the blood drain from her face.

She was so tangled up—on a knife’s edge of arousal, confused and mortified, and he was challenging her in all these different ways. In her head, she knew she should be fine with this. A woman should stand up for herself, should stick up for herself in bed and anywhere else.

And deep down below that, she was a writhing mass of insecurities and shame. She didn’t want to have to ask for things. Asking meant opening yourself up to being told no, to being told you weren’t good enough, didn’t deserve it.

God, there was that voice in her head again. The one that had haunted her all her life.

Only Rylan spoke over it, drowning it out. He pressed her hand closer to the center of her need. “I want you to show me what you like.”

He chased away one kind of doubt, leaving her with just the one.

She didn’t know how to let him see her like this.

“But—” She curled her fingers into her palm, resisting. “You know how to—” How to make me come.

He’d done it last night. Why was he putting her through this?

“Yeah, I do. And I could do it right now, but I’d rather do this.”

“Why?”

“Why?” He skated his other hand down her thigh. “Because it turns me on. Because I still have things to learn for the next time I eat your pussy out.” He exhaled, breath hot against her ear. “Because I want you to be able to do this for the next man you meet who wouldn’t know his way to a woman’s clit if he had a map.”

Of course. She was only here for a handful of days, and then she’d never see him again. She’d known that from the very start, had actually seen it as a positive. As an excuse to let go. And yet to hear him put it so plainly took her breath away, a sharp sudden pang.

She pushed the thought away, but it wouldn’t loosen its hold. No matter how little time they had together, right now he was here. With her.

And she wanted nothing more than to be closer.

“Can we . . .” She twisted, craning her neck to look at him. He gripped her hip, as if trying to stop her—as if he thought she were trying to escape. “The towel,” she said. Trying to explain.