Velvet, Leather & Lace by Suzanne Forster; Donna Kauffman; Jill Shalvis

Author:Suzanne Forster; Donna Kauffman; Jill Shalvis
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Tags: American Light Romantic Fiction, Romance - Adult, Romance: Modern, Underwear industry, Contemporary, Romance - General, Fiction, Romance, Adult, Historical, General, Fiction - Romance
ISBN: 9780373836543
Publisher: Harlequin
Published: 2005-06-30T07:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER SEVEN

MARSH SAW THE PLAY of emotions flicker across her face. The one he most easily recognized was fear. Because he felt it so keenly himself.

He leaned down then, needing her to know she wasn’t alone in this. He brushed his lips next to her ear. “The need I have to give myself completely over to you scares the living hell out of me, too.”

She jerked her gaze to him, obviously stunned by his quietly offered confession. “Marsh.” She reached for him then, but he moved away, shook his head once.

It cost him dearly, but he had to keep things on track. “Keep your hands by your head,” he said, his voice strained.

She scowled in frustration. “Why not tie me up then? Just do what you will?”

“Because that’s the easy way out. For both of us. We both know I can pleasure you. I don’t want you to have no say. I don’t want to rob you of anything, or take anything from you. I want you to willingly hand me control. Like I do with you.” He leaned over her again, brushed his lips along her jaw, pausing beside her ear. “I want you to all but demand me to take it. To take you. Because you want me to. Because you need me to.”

She held his gaze, turbulent emotions clearly ablaze in her bright blue eyes. But she said nothing. Gave nothing.

His entire body vibrated with need as he shifted away from her, turning back to his tray. “Close your eyes,” he instructed again, his tone less congenial. Patience, man, patience, he schooled himself. He routinely took weeks, months, to bring a new charge around to his way of thinking. This shouldn’t be so difficult for him. But it was. Because the stakes were higher than they’d ever been in his life.

“Marsh,” she said from behind him, her voice taut, yet gentle, “I know you give yourself to me. I want you to know…I don’t take that for granted.”

He didn’t turn to look at her. Nor did the tension lessen one iota; in fact, it all but crackled in the air between them. “I give part of myself to you,” Marsh said after a long moment. “Every time we’re together. I would give you more, if you’d ask. If I didn’t think it would threaten you.”

“Is it so bad?” she asked quietly. “What we have now?”

He turned then, sat back in the pile of silk, arms resting on bended knees. He twirled a small paintbrush in his hands. Her gaze flicked between his face…and that twirling little brush.

“It’s more than I hoped for,” he said, rolling the brush to his fingertips, then back. “Much, much more. And maybe for that reason alone, it’s not enough.”

She did look at him then, and spoke honestly. “What if I can’t give more? You aren’t willing to accept what I can give?”

He held her gaze for a long time, then slowly shook his head.

Shocked, he watched tears spring to her eyes. He

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