Caressed by Ice

Judd woke to the realization of a warm female body curved into his, her back to his chest. He hadn’t put on anything before crashing and Brenna was only wearing what felt like a thin slip that had pushed up during sleep to bare her legs all the way to the top. One of his arms was being used as a pillow, while the hand of his other lay on the smoothness of her upper thigh. Their legs were tangled, one of his pushed between hers.

Skin-to-skin contact all over. But not so much as a hint of dissonance.

He checked his shields and found them secure. His power reserves were another matter altogether. He was tapped out. When he glanced at the time laser-projected onto the facing wall, the color a deep green, he realized why. Despite the darkness, it was just after noon—Brenna had likely turned off the simulated daylight. He’d slept for seventeen hours at most and his psychic abilities needed close to twenty-four to regenerate. However, physically, he felt fine. It didn’t make sense, but he wasn’t complaining.

Feeling very alive and very male, he moved his hand over Brenna’s thigh. She murmured and heat spiked in his gut. He waited for the pain response to kick in and punish him for breaking conditioning. It never came. His hand clenched on her.

“Judd.” A sleepy complaint.

He gentled his touch. “Sorry.” Kissing the curve of her neck, he waited for the pain again. Nothing. “It’s tied to my abilities.” Of course. That was why the dissonance had been so extreme, why he’d started to bleed. Because that was how his Tk worked—by applying pressure.

“What is?” She sounded half-asleep.

“The dissonance.” They’d used his own abilities to punish him. It made perfect sense—linking his abilities negatively with emotion reinforced the need to repudiate that emotion, which, in turn, kept his telekinesis from getting out of control.

But now he was wiped out, which meant that while the dissonance controls still existed, there was nothing for them to draw power from. More importantly, until his abilities regenerated, he was no danger to Brenna. He could touch her, taste her, love her. He was hard before the thought ended.

Moving his hand up her thigh, he felt the lace edge of her panties, so delicate under his fingers, but not as delicate as her skin. Sliding a finger under that edge, he ran it down to brush her curls.

“Judd!” A gasp to full wakefulness. “What are you doing?”

“Touching you.”

Her head shifted on his arm. “Oh.” A whisper. “Doesn’t it hurt you?”

“No.” Spreading his fingers, he cupped her as he had once before.

She squeaked out a cry. “Baby, you heard of foreplay?”

He might even have smiled had he known how to do it. “I’m just getting started.” The heat of her burned his skin. “I’ve had a really long time to plan.”

“P-plan?” She coughed as if to clear her throat. “What do you mean—plan?”

He pulled his hand out of her panties to run his finger along the waistband, pushing up his thigh at the same time to rub more intimately against her. His erection throbbed at the proximity. “I thought I should be prepared if the opportunity to touch you without danger ever came to pass.”

Her stomach muscles contracted under his palm. “Is it a detailed plan?”

“Very.” He breathed in the scent at the curve of her neck, then kissed.

She shuddered and tried to turn but he only allowed her halfway, keeping their lower bodies intertwined. Then he braced himself on one elbow and simply looked at her. This close, the darkness was no barrier to his visual mapping of her features. Her eyes glowed a little, especially the flare of blue around the pupils.

It fascinated him. “Beautiful.”

She reached up to tangle her hand in his hair. “Let me turn properly.”

He pushed his thigh higher, pressing into the damp heat of her. Her gasp was both startled and inviting. He moved his thigh back and forth a couple of times. Her eyes fluttered shut. “Tease.” It was a husky accusation.

“On the contrary. I intend to deliver.” He tugged her hand from his hair and nudged her back into her previous position, spooning his body around her.

She made a displeased sound. “I can’t touch you this way.”

“I know.” They called him the Man of Ice, but where Brenna was concerned, he was anything but. If she stroked him, he wouldn’t be able to complete even a tenth of his plan. And for a man who’d been hungry as long as he had, a quick bite held no appeal. He wanted to linger, to gorge, to indulge. With that thought in mind, he ran his hand back under her slip and over the warm silk of her skin. “Is your skin this soft all over?”

Her heart thudded under his touch as he went higher. “Some places are even softer.”

“Now who’s the tease?” He ran his thumb along the underside of one breast.

Her hand clenched on his forearm. Kissing the side of her neck once more, he repeated the stroking caress but went higher. Again. Higher. He could feel her holding her breath as he lingered just below her nipple.

“Judd, please.”

He flicked his finger across the tightly furled bud. She cried out and asked for more. He didn’t give it to her. Instead he retreated to draw a slow circle low on her navel.

“I’m going to kill you.”

He chuckled and it was a sound he’d never before heard come from his own throat. “Patience is a virtue.”

She seemed about to reply but then he began retracing his prior journey, his goal her neglected breast. She went quiet.

Anticipation lingered in the air and he was so sensitive to its touch he could almost taste it. Her skin flushed with heat, her breathing jagged. And when he touched her breast, the rhythm of her heart turned into a staccato drumbeat. This time, he didn’t flick her nipple but closed his hand over the firm, hot rise of her flesh. “Your breasts make me want to bite.”

She arched into his hold, her hand squeezing his arm. “Do it.” A dare. An invitation.

“Not yet.” That would accelerate something he was determined to draw out forever. “I want to savor my first bite.”

Her claws nicked his skin. “No more playing.”

He bit her neck in response, making her tremble and withdraw her claws. “So impatient.” Not giving her any warning, he slipped his hand down and under the waistband of her panties again. Spearing through her curls, he pressed his thumb on her clitoris at the same time as he used his fingers to tease the damp entrance to her body.

She gave a startled cry and then her body went taut. Liquid heat covered his fingers, scenting the air with a sharp wildness. He continued to stroke her as she shuddered several times before her body went soft and sated. Even then he didn’t stop, indulging his need to pet her with long, easy movements as she lay quiescent.

When she finally attempted to turn, he withdrew his thigh and let her, but kept his fingers where they were. She nuzzled at his throat, ran her fingers over his chest. It was no longer an odd feeling for him to be touched by her, but the sexual context changed the tone of the caresses, gave them a different weight. He liked the result.

“Where did you learn all this?” she murmured. “You’re a virgin.”

He almost halted. “I suppose you’re right, technically speaking.” Sex had effectively been wiped out by Silence. Oh, his race had continued practicing it for the sake of procreation—until technology had made that unnecessary—but it had become a mechanical, passionless act. In the present time, normal Psy considered sex an impractical and worthless “animal” exercise. His brethren didn’t value the beauty of bonding with another being on such an intimate level.

Brenna was kissing a line across his chest. “Technically speaking?”

“I’m very good at research—some might say I was obsessed with this particular topic.” He slid his fingers up and out to rest his hand on her abdomen once again.

She ran her teeth over his skin. “Exactly what kind of research did you do?”

“An Arrow never divulges his sources.” Using the hand under her head to tangle in her hair, he kept her in place as he claimed a deep kiss. She responded with pleasure but below that was a strange tension that he knew