“Easy, love, easy.” His gentle shushing soothed her. She tried to absorb the shocking sensation of his fingers as they stroked over her tender flesh. It took all of her control not to clamp her thighs together at the sudden rush of wetness.
“Look at me,” he commanded.
She realized her eyes had closed. With a little sigh, she met his gaze. Fires burned in his eyes, the searing heat of his own desire an almost tangible caress.
“Do you know how beautiful you are?” The tips of their noses touched as he continued to stroke her. When his thumb swept over the bundle of nerves, she jolted as though from an electric shock.
“You are beautiful, Ivy, so beautiful it makes me ache.”
She had never cared before about having an effect on a man. Beauty was often a curse because men would see only her
