"To feel him against me."
He levered himself up and penetrated her eyes with his. "Unbutton my shirt."
She hesitated only a moment before she lowered her eyes from his and looked at the first fastened button on his shirt. She watched her fingers move toward it mindlessly, as though obeying an unspoken command. The button slipped through its hole. All the others followed.
She sighed a soft yearning sound deep in her throat when his chest was revealed. The sun-kissed brown hair spread over the sculpted muscles like a wide golden fan. His nipples were dark in the dim light.
Tears gathered in Jenny's eyes. His masculine perfection made her want to weep. He was beautiful. She caught the fabric of his shirt in her hands and peeled it back over his shoulders and down his arms as far as it would go. Her hands smoothed over him. His skin was tan and sleek, spattered with coppery freckles on the tops of his shoulders. Her fingertips traced the faint blue lines of veins in the bulging biceps.
Gradually he lowered himself over her until they were chest to breast, hair-roughened skin to smooth, masculine muscle to feminine softness.
"Jenny, Jenny, Jenny."
Their mouths meshed as surely as their bodies did. He settled against her carefully, rolling slightly to his side, so she wouldn't absorb all of his weight. He felt the pounding of her heart against his. The tips of her breasts felt achingly sweet against his furred skin.
He loved her. God he loved her. And he couldn't believe that she was finally going to be his.
"Aren't you glad we got the soft couch?"
"Hm. Is this what you had in mind when you persuaded me to buy it?"
"This and more."
They kissed. Eternally. Erotically.
"Jenny, let's go to bed."
"Cage—"
"I won't hurt you. I swear it."
"It's not that."
"Then what?"
"Oh, please don't touch me there," she gasped.
"Isn't it good?"
"Oh, Lord. Too good. Cage, please—"
"Like that? There?"
"Yes."
Their mouths dissolved together.
"Touch me," he pleaded.
"Where?"
"Anywhere."
She laid her hand on his breast. His nipple shrank to a tiny tight pebble against her fingertips.
"Oh, God, I'm dying. Come to bed with me, Jenny."
"I can't."