Page 51 of Charmed

"I knew you'd be beautiful." His skillful fingers roamed her chest, her legs, and hovered everywhere in between. But his voice was as ragged as the sentiment in his eyes when he finally, blessedly, met her gaze. "You're breathtaking, Fi. Utterly breathtaking."

Ah, Goddess. Passion and chemistry she could do. Wherever this was heading, she could not. "Are you going to worship me or take me?"

One corner of his mouth curved like he knew something she didn't and he planned to educate her. "The two are mutually exclusive." He pressed a kiss to her stomach, swirled his tongue around her navel, and grinned against her skin when she moaned. "Keep making that noise and I'll reward you."

"Keep teasing me and I'll punish you."

He laughed, his warm breath caressing her hip. "Something tells me I won't mind." He kissed her inner thigh, mischief in his eyes. "Neither will you." His lips dragged up her other thigh, stopping short of where she needed him most. "Will you, babe?"

He asked for it.

She flicked her fingers, conjuring a gust of wind under him, surging him to his feet and plastering him to her once more. "That's better."

"Yes," he growled, fusing his mouth to hers in a soul-searing kiss that had her knees the consistency of jelly. He gripped the back of her neck, threaded his fingers in her hair, and tugged until she looked at him. Fierce, barely banked desire resonated in his eyes. His lids lowered as the two of them shared air. "We're not stopping until the neighbors know my name."

Promises, promises.

She skimmed her fingers over his wide shoulders, down his defined arms, and his muscles rippled in response. "I'm your neighbor, and I already know your name."

He brushed his nose against hers. A controlled, affectionate gesture that belied the feral tension in his frame. "Say it, then." Letting go of her, he untied his pajama bottoms and they pooled at his ankles. No boxers, no briefs. Nothing underneath. He set his palms on the door by either side of her face and kicked the pants away. "Come on, witch. Say my name. It'll be good practice for screaming it soon."

A violent tremor of anticipation wracked her whole system. "Riley." She didn't know why she'd done as he'd asked. No one was the boss of her, but she liked the foreplay brewing.

He hissed, baring teeth. "Again."

Instead of complying right away, she let her gaze drop to his body. His biceps could crack walnuts. Hard pecs, burnished copper nipples, and abs of steel. A thin scattering of dark hair trailed below his navel where his erection jutted proudly. Moisture leaked from the tip as she looked her fill, and he thickened under her perusal.

The apex of her thighs throbbed, and she itched to touch. He was perfect. Not just in size, but the overall physical package. Toned, tan, and as far from tame as she'd predicted. He had the beautiful, limber grace of a man who spent all his free time in a pool. No bulge, no excess hulk. Lean, primed magnificence.

"Riley," she purred, finally doing what he wanted.

His respirations increased. "Fiona."

Okay, she understood now. His low, guttural tone made breathing difficult, especially when uttering her name like a beacon. She swore, if he didn't snap in the next five seconds, she would.

She closed the remaining miniscule distance and nuzzled his neck—a spot she remembered was erogenous for him. As she'd figured, he shut his eyes and sucked a breath, nostrils flaring. Reaching around him, she slid her hands over hot skin covering rigid muscle and grabbed his firm rearend. The move plastered her breasts and his erection between them, and he groaned. The rumble vibrated through her, sending waves of pent up frustration out to sea.

Rising on her toes, she spoke in his ear. "Are you waiting for something in particular?"

He cupped the back of her head. "I'm trying to obtain a margin of control. I've dreamt about you like this for so damn long, and the last thing I want is to rush. My brain is saying one thing and my body another."

She hummed, smiling. She loved the low timbre his voice took when he was aroused. Kissing her way over his jaw, she hovered by his lips and paused for him to open his eyes. "Aren't you the one who said control is an illusion?"

"Yep."

"And that you were going to prove it to me?"

"Yep again." His gaze darted back and forth between hers, his jaw ticking. "There's shattering control and then there's animalistic. I'm straddling the line of barbarian, babe."

What, exactly, was the problem? "Riley?"

"Yeah?"

"Can we get to the screaming your name part now? I vote barbarian."

"Your wish is my command." He framed her face with his hands and kissed her, the frail link to sanity shredded, judging by the groan he emitted and the way he consumed. He tore away, heaving oxygen, and went to work on her throat with open-mouthed kisses.

She shivered. Her eyes thunked the back of her skull. She felt him in every atom, craving him, yearning to have him fill her. "Good. Because all this talk and considering and restraint is really—"

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