Rachel’s fingers grew bolder, leisurely tracing one image and then the next on his arm. “Did you draw all of these?”
It should have felt strange to be examined like a sculpture, but instead it was gentle and sweet, and kind of hot. “How can you tell?”
She leaned in closer, her dress revealing more of her chest and thighs. “You use these soft dark lines that look like smoke.” Her gaze moved up. She parted his collar to reveal the words that extended to his neck from his shoulder. “What’s this one?”
“A song,” he said, pinning his hands under his legs. It was the only way he wouldn’t reach for her. “‘Y Llegaste Tú.’” Abuelita, my grandmother, she used to play it all the time.” He unbuttoned more of his shirt and pulled it back so she could see all the lyrics. “It says, ‘And you arrived. Entering my soul. As a sweet note, from a tender song.’ She said it reminded her of her wedding.”
Since Rachel started her exploration of his body, he’d hoped her curiosity would override her better judgment, that she might stroke him with the gentle reverence of a lover. He wasn’t prepared for how she traced the line of his neck like it was precious. Like he was sacred. No one had ever touched him that way. Her fingers were hesitant at first, a flutter of movement. Then she whispered, “Your beautiful secret,” with astonishment that ground his willpower into dust. “This song. Your art. Nathan, why are you hiding?”
“I’m not.” He ran his thumb along her cheek and nudged her chin higher until she met his eyes. “You’re the only one who sees me.”
Rachel grabbed his shirt as he clasped her waist and they both pulled at each other, colliding. The taste of him, already familiar, made her head swim. She gave him her tongue, and he sucked and swirled until she was gasping. They broke apart so she could wrap her legs around him and the dress bunched at her hips. He slid his hands underneath and squeezed her thighs.
“We probably shouldn’t,” Nathan said, his voice thick and rough while he stared at her mouth. “I’m really trying not to be an asshole here.”
She braced against his shoulders and rocked into his erection. He made a guttural sound low in his throat. “You’re not an asshole, Nathan.”
Nathan sank both hands into her hair and gently pulled her head back. He pressed his mouth to her neck, and mumbled, “You don’t know me, Rachel,” into her skin. She felt his breath, his teeth, the flick of his tongue against her pulse. “But I really want you to.”
He cupped her breast. She arched into his hand while he teased her nipple, whispering, “Harder,” against his ear. He slipped his fingers beneath her dress to give her what she wanted—blurring the line between pleasure and pain, making a thrilling mess of her senses.
He kissed her again, tracing the strip of lace at her hip. “Can I taste you?” His hand stilled as he waited for permission. She said, “Yes,” and his expression shifted, darkening to something so greedy and determined, it might have been the sexiest thing she’d ever seen.
He lowered her to the couch and paused to stare at the crooked half circle drawn on her hip. “Is this the mystery tattoo?”
She propped herself on her elbows. “Oh. It was supposed to be a moon, like in Starry Night.” Nathan tried and failed to hide his amusement. She rolled her eyes. “I know.”
He circled it with his fingertips. “I could draw something for you.” His hand slipped beneath her panties light and teasing, which she loved but also hated. Her legs trembled as he tugged them down her thighs. “You’re not a moon girl.”
“What am I?” she rasped. He held her gaze as he finally massaged her clit. She ignited.
“You’re the fucking sun.”
He pressed his lips against her like a kiss. One side, then the other. It had been so long since anyone had seen her like this—wet, exposed, and swollen. It made her want to hide from the hungry way he looked at her. She also wanted more.
She felt his tongue, slick and cool, and the intensity made her startle. Nathan leaned back. “Do you want me to stop?”
“No!” She extended a hand. “It’s not you, it’s—it’s been a while. I don’t know if… It might take a while,” she said, and hated that it sounded like an apology.
“I plan on being down here awhile, so I think we’re good.” He grinned, but his gaze was steady and measured, closely tracking her reaction. “Do you trust me?”