Page 20 of The Prophecy
And she realized something. She didn’t want him in control. She wanted him wild. She wanted to release all the ferocious savagery she sensed lurking beneath the surface. She just didn’t know how. She knew he wanted her. The evidence was there right in front of her eyes, huge and swollen.
His eyes locked onto her, hooded, half-closed, a glittering, intense electric-blue, but still he didn’t move, and frustration clawed at her insides. Her own eyes narrowed and, holding his gaze, she trailed trembling fingertips down over the bulge in his jeans.
“What the hell...?” he growled.
He moved suddenly, his hand coming down on hers, covering it, pressing it hard against him. Beneath his hand, her fingers molded to his length and a tremor ran through his body. She squeezed, and his head fell back. His eyes closed. Then his hand tightened on hers and he dragged it away.
She stared at him. “Why?”
He ran a hand through his hair. “I promised I wouldn’t hurt you, and you’re not making this easy.” Raven frowned, and he continued, “It’s been a long time for me. I want to make it good for you, but I’m afraid of losing control.”
A wild thrill ran through her at his words. “I want you to lose control.”
“What?”
But instead of answering she reached for him again, trailing a finger down over his chest, hooking it into the waistband of his jeans, and pulling him toward her. For a moment he resisted.
Then with a groan of defeat he gave in. Reaching down, he grasped the hem of his T shirt and tugged it over his head, tossing it to the floor. Raven released her hold on him and sat back, eyes wide. His hand went to his waist and she followed the movement, only her gaze moving as she sat perfectly still. He was almost painfully aroused now and he flicked open the button, pulled down the zip, almost moaned with relief. And still she didn’t move. He kicked off his boots and then dragged his jeans down and off.
Then he straightened to stand before her, naked.
