He simply reached out and took her hand, his fingers warm against her damp skin, pulling her toward him.
“Kneel,” he commanded, his voice a low, rough murmur that seemed to coil around her.
Olivia’s breath hitched again. Her knees, still slightly weak from the shock of vulnerability, obeyed before her mind could fully process the instruction. She sank slowly, the thick pile of the rug cushioning her. Now, she was at his level, the height difference between them almost entirely erased, yet he remained seated in the lounge chair, his powerful frame still, dominating the space.
She looked up at him, her eyes wide, searching his for any hint of what came next. The raw desire she had glimpsed earlier was intensified, burning in the depths of his gaze, but it was layered with something else n
