Dancing With the Dangerous Prince Read Online Free PDF Page A

course.  They only had a limited amount of time with each other and he didn’t want to dwell on issues that might raise too many questions.  Questions he couldn’t answer. 
    As the sun set and darkness surrounded them, he pulled her closer, having her lean against his chest while they talked.  He didn’t touch her in any other way, just enjoyed listening to her voice and her musical laughter. 
    Eventually, the tension around them grew thicker and their conversation died out, replaced by an intense awareness of each other.  His hands moved along the skin of her arms and she froze, her breath catching in her throat. 
    When his fingers moved against her waist, she held her breath, praying that he would move them higher, to feel the crazy feelings that he’d given her earlier today. 
    “Tell me what you want me to do,” he said in her ear. 
    “Touch me,” she finally said. 
    “Where?” he asked, even though he knew. He just wanted to hear her say it. 
    Ciara bit her lip, unaware of how her hands where gripping his knees as she waited tensely for his hands to cup her breasts. 
    “Tell me where, Ciara,” he urged, his teeth biting the shell of her ear. 
    She shook her head, unable to say the words, but she lifted his hands, showing him instead of telling him.  When his fingers cupped her breast, she closed her eyes and leaned her head back against his shoulder.  Those amazing fingers found her nipple through both layers of clothing and she arched into his hand. 
    She gasped when his hands moved away and her eyes sprung open, a sound of disapproval came out of her mouth but he shushed her again.  A moment later, she stiffened in his arms when his large hands slid underneath her shirt.  She couldn’t believe how perfect those fingers felt.  And then he pulled that shirt off over her head, wanting it gone.
    “I want to see you,” he told her.
    Ciara had no idea what he could see, but she didn’t care.  She was too caught up in the moment, wanting his fingers back against her breasts.  Her hands were impatient, grabbing them back and putting them on her breasts once again.  With a flick of his fingers, he found and released the front clasp of her bra, then slowly pulled the lace back away. 
    She was holding her breath and she suspected that he was as well.  Never before had she felt so powerful and so feminine. 
    “You’re beautiful,” he whispered as his fingers slid across her nipples.  She gasped, the tender, almost-not-there touch sending her desire spiraling. 
    “Please!” she gasped. 
    A moment later, he shifted their positions.  His tee-shirt was pulled off of his back and laid out underneath her as he held himself above her, looking down at her pale breasts in the moonlight.  “Do you trust me?” he asked in a soft, rough sounding voice.
    She nodded her head.  “Yes,” she told him to emphasize her response. 
    A moment later, his hand slid the zipper of her shorts down.  She gasped and grabbed his wrist, stopping him, but he looked into her eyes.  “Trust me,” he coached softly. 
    He felt her fingers relax and slid the zipper down further.  The lace of her underwear enticed him, but he didn’t pull it down.  He wanted to take this slowly but he was in so much pain. 
    Lowering his head, he captured her nipple in his mouth while smoothing his fingers down lower.  Very gently, he slid his fingers into her heat, moving slowly so he wouldn’t startle her.  All the while, his mouth teased her nipples, biting, soothing, sucking and driving her wild.  He loved the way she clenched his fingers, her body unable to hold still under his tender ministrations.  The whole time, he wished that there was more light so that he could see her instead of just feel her. 
    Too soon, he felt her start to splinter apart and he absorbed her cry in his mouth as his fingers pulled her over her peak. 
    When she floated back down to earth, she opened her eyes and looked up at him,