Game For Anything. Cara Summers

occurred to her. Narrowing her eyes, she studied the reflection in the mirror. “I’m not dreaming. Tell me I’m not.”

      His eyes darkened. “You’re not dreaming. Neither am I. Tell me what you want, Princess. This?”

      He moved his hand lower over her abdomen, and she began to tremble.

      “Lower?”

      “Yes.”

      When his fingers slipped over the curls at the apex of her thighs, she couldn’t prevent the moan. “I want…”

      She tried to arch up against his fingers, but he held her trapped, pressed tightly against him. Leaning down, he brushed a line of kisses along her throat. “Look at me.”

      She met his eyes in the mirror.

      “I want to see how you feel—how much you want me.” He slipped a finger into her and withdrew it.

      “Again?” he asked.

      “Please.”

      This time he used two fingers.

      The climax began so forcefully and moved through her so fiercely that she cried out as she seemed to splinter apart.

      TRACKER LOWERED HER onto the bed, then lay down next to her. The tremors were still moving through her, and his own body was throbbing with the need to take her. Now.

      Through sheer force of will, he reined in his desire. No matter how many times he’d fantasized about touching her, pleasuring her, none of it had come anywhere near the reality. He’d never imagined what seeing the pleasure he gave her would do to him.

      While she was still steeped in that pleasure, he would love her again. And he would keep it easy and gentle. Raising his hand, he skimmed it down her side, over her hip to her thigh, and began to trace a pattern.

      “No,” she murmured, opening her eyes. “Stop.”

      “Stop?” He stilled his hand. “Did I hurt you?”

      “Of course not.”

      “Am I doing something wrong?”

      “Oh, no. I didn’t mean it that way.” She wiggled away from the hand that was resting on her thigh.

      “You want me to stop?”

      “Good heavens, no. Are you crazy? No one has ever touched me that way. But you haven’t…I mean, I haven’t…” She managed to lever herself up onto her knees.

      When he covered her breast with his hand, she grabbed his wrist. “No, don’t. It’s my turn to make love to you. You just have to give me a second. I think some of my brain cells died.”

      She was sure they had. But she wasn’t paralyzed, at least. Pressing her hand against his shoulder, she pushed, rolled and wiggled until he was lying beneath her. She might not be as experienced as she would wish, but she’d read Cosmo. She knew the value of being on top.

      “Princess, let me—”

      When he gripped her shoulders, she rose up to straddle his waist. “Let me,” she teased, looking down at him. “Haven’t you ever heard that turnabout’s fair play?”

      He studied her for a minute. “What if I said I’m not finished with my turn yet?”

      “That would be good.” She leaned down, brushed her mouth against his and then withdrew. If she allowed him to deepen the kiss, she would be lost again. And she had plans first. “How could I argue with that? I just want you to take a little break. I’ll be more in the mood for round two if you let me play around a little first.”

      His eyes narrowed. “Play around? What exactly do you have in mind?”

      “You don’t trust me at all, do you?” There was wariness mixed with the blatant desire in his eyes, and it filled her with a sense of power and confidence.

      “I know when you’re up to something, Princess.”

      “Me?” Up to something? Well, if that’s what he thought, that’s what she would deliver. She’d just have to think “naughty” and improvise. Slowly, she trailed a finger from his throat down his chest to a point at the apex of her thighs. The quick hitch of his breath thrilled her. “I might be more trustworthy if I knew your real name. Are you going to tell me or suffer a penalty?”

      “What’s the penalty?”

      Avoiding an answer, she said, “I just want to touch you.” She trailed her finger slowly back up to his throat. “You got to touch me.” She moved her mouth to his ear. “It only seems fair that I get a turn. And you can even join in after a while. But not until I tell you to.” She straightened then and gripped his hands, drawing them over his head. “First, you have to hold on to the bedposts.” She was leaning over him, their eyes only inches apart. The wariness was still there, but the heat beneath it nearly singed her skin. Drawing in a deep breath, she said, “Are you game?”