down to her hot, slick, swollen centre. She jolted as a shock of pleasure raced through her. His fingers moved again, circling and teasing.
Her hand on his wrist stopped him. ‘No. Don’t. I just want you.’
She was strung so tight, on an unbearable edge of arousal, that she feared one more touch might fling her into rapture. But she needed something more profound than the touch of his hand. She craved the ultimate connection, the intimacy of their two bodies linked as one.
Tori sighed her relief when he nodded. Even so Ash took his time, surveying her face as if memorising it. Tori felt his gaze cross her cheeks, lips and forehead. And when his hand brushed the hair back from her face it was a gesture that spoke of tenderness and restraint, for she felt the tiniest tremor in those long fingers.
‘Your hair is like silk,’ he murmured.
Tori wanted to say something profound, to offer this strong, gentle man something to match the gift of his tenderness. But there were no easy words.
Instead she lifted her own hand, cupping the stubble-roughened jaw, hard and warm. She felt his slow pounding pulse, then skimmed her hand higher into dark hair that felt thick yet soft. His eyes closed as she massaged the uninjured side of his scalp.
He positioned himself against her. Instinctively she lifted her pelvis, feeling that velvet weight nudge her. Tori held her breath as he pushed, long and slow and further, surely, than any previous possession. Her eyes widened and his grew more heavy-lidded as they held their breaths at the perfection of their joining. The moment went on and on till finally Ash was lodged deep within, vital and impossibly, lavishly male.
A quiver ran through Tori, starting at the muscles surrounding him and spreading till she trembled all over. A matching shiver rippled across his wide shoulders and muscled arms.
Then he withdrew, and the movement was so exquisitely arousing that Tori had to bite her lip to stop from crying out. Ash’s lips pulled back in a grimace that looked like pain, but she knew it was a sign of pleasure and his battle for control.
The sight of him fighting for restraint and the generous pleasure of his returning thrust sent Tori spiralling over the edge.
‘Please.’ Her hands dug into his shoulders as she struggled to keep her voice to a whisper. ‘I need you now.’
Ash’s mouth covered hers, blotting out the scream rising within. Strong arms held her close as he abandoned restraint and pounded fast, hard and satisfying, filling her so that it seemed there was no longer Tori and Ash but only one being, straining after pleasure. Rapture exploded in a shuddering conflagration so powerful that the very air vibrated with it.
Together they rocked and shuddered. She was overwhelmed by sensations so intense they defied description. Except that at their heart was a delight so profound Tori half expected to die from it.
The world shook. Senses swam. Blood roared in her ears loud as a helicopter coming in to land. And through it all they stayed locked together, mouths and bodies fused.
Finally, when sanity began to creep back in, Ash rolled onto his side and then his back, taking Tori with him. Aftershocks ripped through her as overloaded pleasure receptors reacted again and again.
A rough gasp of pain reminded her of Ash’s wounds. Instantly she tried to shift from his grasp. He didn’t need her weight on his injuries.
‘Stay.’ His voice was hoarse, a rough wisp of sound that Tori found it impossible to resist.
She kissed him open-mouthed in the hot, male-scented curve where his shoulder met his neck. He shivered, hauling her closer.
Never had Tori felt this profound oneness. It was shared physical pleasure but surely something more. Something inexplicable that had swept them up and cradled them together.
Tori gave in to the protective urge to spread her arms as wide as she could around his brawny shoulders. She rested her head on his chest, absorbing the reassuring heavy thud of his heartbeat. She’d wait till she caught her breath. Then she’d try to define the change she sensed with every cell yet couldn’t name.
It was her last cogent thought for hours.
* * *
‘Tori.’
The luscious deep voice was warm and seductive in her ear. Ash’s hands moved over her body and she stretched sinuously, arching to meet them.
She frowned, for he wasn’t caressing her, he was—
‘It’s time to wake up.’ His hands were deftly doing up her shirt buttons, right to the collar.
‘Ash?’ She opened her eyes to discover pale light filtering through the small windows.
He was dressed, she realised, his torn shirt buttoned and tucked into dusty trousers. Then she recalled him insisting in the night that they dress again. For warmth, he’d said.
Now she felt a chill that was only partly due to the temperature. Grey dawn light revealed a clearer view of Ash than she’d had so far. His features were starkly sculpted and compelling. His face would turn any woman’s head. But now she saw clearly the blood caked in his hair. His torn clothes were liberally marked with dark stains and the chain securing him looked brutally heavy.
Tori’s stomach turned as dread reality hit her full-force. Nausea rose. Her pulse accelerated to a panicky rhythm. Impossibly, in Ash’s arms the peril they were in had been pushed to the back of her mind. Now realisation slammed into her.
She clutched his hands and he paused. His eyes met hers and something passed between them. Then Ash took hold of her hands. In this light she still couldn’t make out the colour of his eyes, yet the warmth she read in them counteracted the chill crackling across her bones.
Slowly, as if he had all the time in the world, he raised her left hand and kissed her palm, his warm lips soft on her flesh. He repeated the gesture with her other hand, sending a squiggle of heat from her palms to her breasts and lower, arrowing to her core.
He murmured something against her palm that she couldn’t catch. But his eyes as they met hers glowed with a message that made her chest clamp.
‘Thank you, habibti.’ He inclined his head, sketching a quick, graceful movement with his hand that spoke of respect and admiration. ‘You did me great honour last night. Your gift is one I’ll carry with me.’
Tori was about to respond when Ash’s expression changed. His head whipped towards the door, his features intent, as if he heard something she couldn’t.
‘Quickly.’ He grabbed her boots and shoved her feet into them.
‘What is it?’
But she guessed the cause of his urgency. Someone was coming.
The thought of their captors made her fingers shake, and she watched Ash push her hands aside to do up the laces with swift efficiency.
‘Remember what I said.’ His voice was urgent and low. ‘Don’t fight back till you’re alone with one of them. You’ll stand a better chance.’
Tori looked into that stern, handsome face and nodded. She swallowed hard. ‘You—?’
‘I’ll be fine. Now the sun’s rising the search party will find it easier to locate the camp.’
Neither admitted that the search party might be too late for him.
His hands tightened on hers as they heard voices outside. Leaning in, he whispered, ‘When you escape—’ when, not if... Tori’s heart leapt with hope ‘—keep low and—’
His words were cut off by the door banging open to rattle against the wall. Tori blinked against the light, realising belatedly that Ash no longer held her hands but was on his feet, facing the three men who had entered.
What came next was the stuff of nightmares. Brutal, pawing hands and leering faces. A slap that made her head ring as she