She could feel it, that knowledge, sense it with the raging feminine need coursing through her body.
"Because you're dangerous," she whispered, feeling her fingers shake as she lifted them from the table. "And I think I've had enough danger in my life lately."
She had to force herself to begin standing.
"Are you sure you want to leave now, Mikayla?"
He stood, leaned closer, and for that moment she was lost.
She was lost in his eyes. Icy, icy blue eyes that at first were as frozen as the Arctic. Until he came closer. Until she glimpsed for a second that flame of blue in their depths.
Until his lips touched hers.
That kiss.
She had read about that kiss. She had seen movies that revolved around that kiss. But she had never known it herself before this. This was the first time.
As his lips brushed against hers heat seared her senses and some unknown narcotic began to infuse her blood. Wild, impossible pleasure began to pound through her body, focusing between her thighs, swelling in her clit, dampening her sex. Sensual, sensuous, the heavy lassitude washed through her, allowing her lips to part, to accept that first brush of his tongue.
She had kissed before. She'd had lots of kisses. She was a virgin; that didn't mean she had never been kissed. It didn't mean she had never been touched or tempted.
But never had she been tempted like this. Parting her lips further, she allowed her senses, her curiosity, to take control. A kiss like this was once in a lifetime. It was a kiss that personified danger, broken hearts, and star-crossed hungers.
She trembled as he moved around the table, never breaking contact, the kiss growing only deeper as he took deep, drugging sips of her lips. He rubbed his lips against hers, licked at her tongue with his. Then his lips slanted over hers and he took them as a man intent on seduction.
Mikayla wasn't going to fight it. This was more man than she had ever had so close. More man than she had ever dared to approach, ever wanted to approach. Mikayla had always wanted nothing more than to live a safe, steady, sane life.
Life hadn't been any of that lately; why not grab some of the pleasure to be had from it?
She gasped as she felt herself being lifted. The smooth planks of the picnic table were under her thighs as Nik's hand cupped her neck, holding her in place as his kiss deepened.
Summer heat whipped not just around her but also through her. The feel of his strength, the touch of his lips, were heady. She wanted more.
Mikayla couldn't resist reaching up to his hair, her fingers tugging at the leather strap holding it back. The coarse, cool strands flowed around her fingers, down the sides of his face. The sensual feel added to the pleasure beginning to build in her body.
"Such a brave little beauty," he murmured, his head lifting as her eyes opened.
What had ever made her imagine his eyes were cold? Icy? That wasn't ice. It was a steel blue flame blistering in its heat.
"Brave? Stupid maybe?" She was breathless, but it was the feel of his hands on her thighs, pushing the hem of her dress higher, that had her losing her breath.
The heated rasp of calloused flesh sent fingers of blistering pleasure racing through her nerve endings. Her gaze jerked down. She had to watch. Eyes wide, her lips parting, she watched as his large, broad hands slid her dress slowly up her thighs until his thumbs met at the damp center of her silken panties.
He stood between her spread knees, his legs shifting to part her thighs as his thumbs moved subtly against the center of her panties.
"Nik . . ." She tried to breath. She had to convince herself this was a bad thing. She had remained a virgin all these years, waiting until it was right.
Was this right? Or was it just a man who knew exactly how to play the human body?
"Shh. I just want a taste, pretty baby," he crooned. "I've never tasted innocence before."
Her gaze flashed back to his. That pale blue flame licked over her senses as his head lowered.
His lips stroked along her jawline to her neck. Flash points of pleasure seemed to tear across her nerve endings, streaking to alternate points of her body as she began to ache with sensual heat.
His thumb pressed against her cl*t as it throbbed for attention. The firm, knowing touch sent spirals of sensation tracking lower, invading the depths of her sex and clenching through her body with near-violent desire.
She had never wanted like she wanted this touch. The heated warmth of his fingertips against her inner thighs, his thumb pressing against her cl*t as his kiss sank inside her.
It was incredible.
He was the ultimate bad boy bringing the ultimate pleasure, and Mikayla, like any good virgin, was much too susceptible to it.
The exquisite sensation raced through her body like a narcotic she couldn't resist. It weakened any thought to protest, any need to deny. It sensitized her flesh, heated it, and had her lying back for him as he came over her, his knee pressing against the table, replacing his thumbs as one hand gripped her hip and dragged her closer to the firm pressure of that diabolical knee.
For twenty-six years she had remained a virgin and she was ready to throw it all away right now, right here.
Her head tipped back as his lips moved from hers, to her jaw, to her neck. The heated rasp of his unshaven jaw brushed against her neck as his lips waged a path of sensual destruction along the tender flesh of her neck.
It was incredible. It so surpassed pleasure, came so close to orgasmic bliss, she could barely breathe for it. She couldn't think. She couldn't do anything but feel.
Oh, God, it felt so good.
His fingers played at the edges of her br**sts as his lips moved lower, brushed against the rounded tops, licked over them. His tongue painted a trail of fire that sent a quicksilver rush of sensation tearing through her womb.
"You have to be the sweetest thing I've tasted in my life," he growled as he pushed the strap of her dress over her shoulder, revealing more of her breast, daring to nudge her dress lower until the tender bud of her nipple was revealed.
She was doing this on his deck? Letting him touch her like this, taste her like this, on his picnic table? And she was loving it.
The side of his finger rasped against her nipple as she arched closer, feeling his tongue lick between the valley of her br**sts. She wanted his tongue on her nipple. She wanted to feel it enclosed in the heated cavern of his mouth. She wanted it like she had never wanted another touch.
Was it the danger she had faced? The knowledge that tomorrow had almost not arrived for her? Was it the danger? Was it simply the man?