"There's lust, and then there's… this," Rafe murmured, his voice hoarse as he reluctantly lifted his head from her shoulder. His breath was still uneven, his chest rising and falling against hers, but the rawness in his tone betrayed the depth of what he was feeling.
Beneath his hands, he felt her tense, her body suddenly stiffening against his. His frown was immediate, concern flickering in his dark eyes. Had he said something wrong? A pang of doubt crept in as he studied her expression. And then she pressed her hands against his shoulders, her movements urgent but not panicked.
"Arabelle?" he asked, his voice soft but questioning, as he began to ease away from her. Untangling himself from her was no simple feat and the unmistakable evidence of their passion lingered between them. The sheer intimacy of the moment made stepping back almost unbearable, but he did it anyway.