Working on her dress from the top down now, he unbuttoned the collar—it was a mandarin style with piping and swirling dragons—and the bodice, slowly exposing her breasts in the sheer black silk of her bra.
And her scar.
Her hands came up automatically, wanting to cover the thick and puckered line where her skin had once been smooth and unmarked, but he caught her hands and lowered them out of his way. That gleaming gaze of his flickered up to her face, flashing a warning.
With a smile that was gentle and encouraging, he threw her words right back in her face.
“Gaps, Talia. Remember? I have nightmares. You have scars. We both have gaps. Why can’t we help each other?”
Her chin tried to quiver, but she was finished with the tears.
He was right, wasn’t he? She’d faced down cancer. She wasn’t about to let some freaking little scar prevent her from enjoying the most beautiful experience of her life.
“Oh, you were listening, eh?”
He didn’t smile. “I always listen to you. I thought you knew that.”
She nodded, not trusting her voice any longer.
“So…is this okay?”
That was all the encouragement he needed. With a low growl of masculine appreciation, he dove in, nuzzling his lips against her scar and loving every inch of it. The intimacy stunned her, trapping the breath in her throat, and there was no chance to recover. A flick of his fingers undid the bra’s front clasp, and then he brushed the cups aside, dipped his head and latched on, sucking one aching nipple into the hot center of his mouth.
A shocked, high note shot out of her before she could stifle it, and that drove him on. His mouth on one breast, he massaged the other, squeezing the nipple and then, when she thought she’d pass out if he didn’t give her a break, he switched.
Nonsense came out of her in an unstoppable stream.
“Tony, you have to—”
“Please. Please. I’m begging you. Don’t make me—”
“I can’t take it. I can’t—”
Finally, he took pity on her. Reaching down between them again, he pressed his fingers to her sex, and she came, going off like a firework with spasming arms, writhing hips and curling toes. Muscles all up and down her body went rigid, arching her backward into the sofa’s armrest until it seemed like a possibility that her spine would snap.
Over her subsiding cries and whimpers, she heard Tony’s muttered curse and the sound of him fumbling around for something. Spent but determined not to miss anything, she cracked her lids open to see him unzip his pants and sheath his straining erection.
She’d been having trouble catching her breath. Now it got worse in the best possible way. “Tony.”
Without answering, he gave her a long glance with those gleaming eyes of his. Then he was easing her legs apart and thrusting inside her body, starting the delicious torture all over again.
The only thing she could do was dig her nails into the flexing muscles of his ass and hang on for the relentless ride. He was wild and unabashed, almost frantic with his movements.
Braced on his forearms, he drove harder…deeper…his entire body straining and releasing with each pump of his hips. Tendons pulsed in his neck, and the muscles in his shoulders and chest stood out in stark relief beneath his sweat-slicked skin. Her name poured out of his mouth, hoarse and guttural. And he unerringly hit her swollen and sensitized sweet spot, winding her tighter and sending her higher than she’d ever been before.
Panting and mindless, she glanced down along the length of their moving bodies and saw the contrast between their skin, his dark to her lighter, and the way her legs encased him, holding him inside her body in a death grip, and the way the hard slabs of his chest flattened her breasts.
The intimacy and sensuality of it was overwhelming, and she watched, mesmerized, until—
The pleasure, bright and piercing, shot through her, catching in her throat and lingering there, preventing her from making a sound.
But he knew.
He’d been watching her, and the last thing she saw before he leaned his head back and came with a raw shout, was the hint of smiling satisfaction in his expression.