Dragonfury 02 - Fury of Ice

and—”
    “Tell me later.” She unzipped her hoodie.
    His mouth parted. Loving his reaction, Angela almost smiled. She held it in, shrugged her shoulders instead, letting the Lululemon fall to the floor, exposing her thin cotton tee. His hands curled into fists. Angela bit the inside of her lip, watching him want her.
    His reaction was gratifying. Made her feel powerful. Desirable and needed. All that and she wasn’t even naked. Yet. Wasn’t busty, curvy, full of sexpot appeal like some women. Sure, her B cups held their own. Were high, taut, full enough for most men to appreciate. And currently braless. Which left little to the imagination. Especially when the chill in the room hit and her nipples furled tight beneath the cotton.
    Rikar’s chest rose and fell, each breath coming harder…faster. “Unfair, angel.”
    “Did you expect anything less?” she asked, playing the tease, throwing the words he’d used in the cellblock back at him. “Why don’t you come over here?”
    “I’m…holy shit…I think maybe…” His throat bobbed as he swallowed.
    Angela watched his fingers curl and uncurl, the action telling. He couldn’t wait to touch her. Was imagining what her nipples tasted like. Her mouth curved. He was easy to read. A classic case of tug-of-war…right versus wrong. Option one: forget right and make love to her. Option two: reject wrong and talk. She nibbled on her bottom lip, watched his focus shift to her lips. She lost the battle and smiled.
    Time to put option one into play. Tempt fate a little. Or rather, help it along.
    Her eyes on his face, Angela grabbed the hem of her T-shirt. She heard Rikar’s breath hitch. But mercy wasn’t in the cards. With one controlled movement, the cotton rolled up and over the top of her head. He choked. She hummed. Just the response she was looking for. The guy was toast and knew it. His talk had just gone out the window. No way would he be able to resist touching her now. Not while she stood bare-breasted in the lamplight, cotton dangling from her fingertips, chin raised in challenge.
    Breathing hard, he stared at her, dark desire in his gaze. And oh, boy. No shoes. No shirt, but his expression said it all. She was about to get excellent service…Rikar style.
    “Sweet Christ,” he rasped, pushing away from the door. “You’re so fucking beautiful, Angela.”
    She murmured a thanks, but stayed perfectly still, letting him look, tempted to roll the yoga pants off her hips, down her thighs, and give him a real show. Hell, she’d do a pirouette for him. Perform a freaking ballet just as long as he crossed the room and touched her.
    Right now.
    His approach, though, was slow—predatory, animalistic—driving her crazy with anticipation.
    One hand gripping the footboard, she turned up the heat and said, “You waiting for a formal invitation?”
    Pale eyes aglow, he dragged his focus away from her breasts. As his gaze met hers, he asked, “What do you want, Angela?”
    She swallowed. “You.”
    “Be sure, love.”
    She hesitated less than a heartbeat. “I am.”
    “Then ask me.” His boots scraped against the wood floor as he moved toward her, more prowl than actual walk. “Spell it out. I need to hear you say it.”
    “I want you to…” Angela chewed on the inside of her lip. Watched him approach. Working up the courage to say the words. “Make love to me.”
    “You want me inside you?”
    “Yes.”
    “Any way I please?”
    A tremor rolled through her, dragging a memory with it. She wanted Rikar, no question. But not the way the rat-bastard had—
    Angela clenched her teeth. No way. Not here. Not now. She refused to allow shame to taint what she had with Rikar. It wasn’t her fault. But as tempting as it was, she couldn’t bury the pain. Hiding from him—lying to him—wouldn’t do either of them any good. He needed to know. She needed to tell him. Honesty was part of the package.
    “Not from…” She cleared her throat and whispered, “Not from behind. He hurt me that way. I can’t handle that…not yet.”
    “I won’t love you that way…not until you’re ready.” His voice was soft, full of compassion, but not pity. He understood, accepted her without reservation or judgment. And wow. Didn’t that just made her want to cry all over again. As she blinked back tears, Rikar stopped in front of her. “But I’ll take you every other way…long and hard, soft and sweet. No holds barred. You ready to give me that?”
    She