“Nadya…”
For a moment, she was worried he was telling her to stop. But then his strong, broad palm slipped down her shoulder and onto her back, making a swoop that ended on one of her hips. When it started its return trip up, she twisted her torso in a manner that would have beencompletely impossible before—in a manner that brought her breast directly into his pec.
“Oh, God…” His voice was strangled, but in a good way, his yearning clearly tightening his throat. “Nadya.”
“I love the way you say my name like that.”
“How am I saying it?”
“Like you’re hungry.”
With a boldness that came from this being some kind of dream, she decided to do a little exploring of her own, her hand moving over the muscles of his arm, feeling his corded strength, his long bones. He was built so differently from her, everything hard and unyielding, and she liked that. She wanted that. Nothing soft, all of him hard… so he could enter her.
Moving her hips forward, she felt the bump of his erection, and the heated length was a brand she didn’t mind the burn of. Especially as he sucked in a breath.
“Is this okay?” she asked.
“Are you fucking kidding me.”
At his dry response, she had to laugh. And then nothing seemed particularly funny as he eased onto his back, giving her his whole body to explore. Tucking her head into his throat, she ran her hand down his pecs and onto his heart. Then she kept going, feeling the ridges of his abdomen.
Skirting to the side, his hip bone was a graceful arch, and the expanse of his thigh was thick and streaked with muscle that flexed under her touch—
He caught her hand, stopping her as she went to move up to his sex. “Nadya. Are you sure you know what you’re doing?”
“Yes…”
“Open your eyes, then.”
She thought about that. “No, because then this would be real.” As she felt him pull back sharply, she shook her head. “I don’t want to be who I am with you. If it’s like this, if it’s a dream… then I can be whole. I want to be like that.”
Tears came to her eyes, and as they soaked her lashes, she wondered if he might not get his wish. If she had to raise her lids so she could wipe away the old, familiar pain—
“You are whole to me,” he said softly. “Open your eyes.”
Bracing herself, she lifted her lids—and there he was for real, the male she had never dared fantasize about in this way, even though she’d wanted to. With a shaking hand, she reached up and touched his face.
“You’re really here?”
“Yes.”
She glanced past him—and felt a measure of relief. The odd red fog that surrounded them was utterly implausible, and she took solace in it. So this actually was a dream, even this part that felt like he—
“Thank you,” he said roughly.
“For what?” she murmured as she ran her hand over his shoulder.
“Touching me. Wanting… to touch me.”
“How could I not want this?” She kept going onto his smooth chest. “You’re beautiful.”
There was a strange pain in his face, a darkness in his eyes. But as he shook his head, she had a feeling he was getting rid of it, closing a door firmly.
“I want to kiss you,” he said.
“So kiss me.”
She tilted her chin up, lifting her mouth into position, and he lowered his head to hers. The brush of his lips against hers was soft, a velvet warmth, tantalizing and comforting at the same time.