When he finally pulled back just enough for them both to breathe, Heena stared up at him, her chest heaving, the air in the room suddenly feeling too thin to support her lungs. This wasn't the shy, stuttering scholar she had spent the last forty-eight hours mocking. This was a man who had finally snapped the leash he'd kept on himself for years, and the creature that had emerged was far more predatory than she had bargained for.
His hand slid slowly down her side, fingers tracing the curve of her waist through the thin, translucent under-robe. The moment his roughened fingertips brushed against the bare skin of her stomach where the fabric had bunched up, Heena flinched.
It wasn't fear. It was the sheer, unadulterated shock of sensation.
