His hands clenched into fists at his sides when she pressed her lips to his chest, but he stayed still. She moved her mouth down, and the masculine, salty taste of his skin aroused her even more. She forced her mind to concentrate on giving pleasure rather than receiving, but the two were so intertwined it was impossible to stop the fire racing through her blood.

He had scars on his chest, she noted with curiosity. Several, in fact, giving the warrior illusion more substance than fantasy.

She wouldn't ask. At least, not now. Whatever he'd done before, whatever had happened, she didn't want to know. There was only now,...