“Tell me that’s a good thing?”
“It is . . .”
She stared at the rigid length that was confined and straining against the front of his no longer billowy slacks. So thick and smooth. So big. The mechanics of sex were not unknown to her, but up until now, she hadn’t been able to fathom why they would appeal to a female. Looking at him now? Her heartbeat would cease and her blood would turn to stone if she didn’t have him within her.
“Do you want to touch me?” he growled.
“Please . . .” She swallowed through a nearly closed throat. “Oh, yes . . .”
“First, look at yourself,
She glanced down just to humor him so they could get on with things—
Her skin was aglow from the inside out, as if the heat and the sensations he called forth from her had manifested themselves in illumination. “I know not . . . what this is. . . .”
“I think it’s the solution, actually.” He sat down next to her feet. “Tell me if you feel this.” He gently touched her lower leg, laying his hand upon her calf—
“Warm,” she choked out. “Your touch is
“And here?”
“Yes . . . yes!”
When he went to move it upward, onto her thigh, she furiously yanked the coverings off of herself so she would have no impediments. Her heart was thundering and—
He laid his palm upon her other leg.
This time, she felt . . . nothing.
“No, no . . . touch me, touch me again!” The demand was harsh, her focus manic. “Touch me—”
“Hold on—”
“Where did it go—do it again! By all that is holy with your God, do it anew—”
“Payne.” He captured her frantic hands. “Payne, look at yourself.”
The glow was gone. Her skin, her flesh . . . was normal. “Damn it all—”
“Hey. Beautiful. Hey—look at me.” Somehow her eyes found his. “Take a deep breath and just relax. . . . Come on, breathe with me. That’s it. That’s good. . . . I’ll get it back for you. . . .”
When he bent toward her, she felt the gentle stroke of his fingertips on her neck. “You feel this?”
“Yes . . .” Impatience warred with the effect of his deep voice and his slow, meandering touch.
“Close your eyes—”
“But—”
“Close them for me.”
When she did as she was told, the pads of his fingers disappeared . . . and were replaced by his mouth. His lips brushed her throat and then sucked at her skin, the subtle pull unleashing a welling heat between her legs.
“Feel this?” he said in a gravelly voice.
“ Fates . . . yes . . .”
“Then let me keep going.” With subtle pressure, he urged her back against the pillows. “Your skin is so smooth. . . .”
As he nuzzled at her, the sound of his mouth made delicious clicking sounds below her ear, and those fingers of his traveled back and forth on her collarbone . . . then dipped down. In response, a curious, languid warmth boiled in her torso and tightened up her nipples, and she became aware of her whole body . . . every inch of herself. Even her legs.
“See,
Her lids were heavy as stones as she opened them, but when she glanced down, the glow was a huge relief—and made her hold on to the sensations he was calling out of her.
“Give me your mouth,” he said roughly. “Let me in.”
His voice was guttural, but his kiss was gentle and teasing, pulling at her lips and stroking, before he licked at her. And then she felt his hand on her outer leg.
“I feel you,” she said into his kiss, tears coming to her eyes. “I feel you.”
“I’m glad.” He eased back a little, his face serious. “I don’t know what this is—I’m not going to lie. Jane isn’t sure, either.”
“I do not care. I just want my legs back.”
He had a moment’s pause. But then he nodded, as if he were taking a vow to her. “And I’m going to do whatever I can to give them to you.”
His eyes drifted to her breasts, and the response was immediate— with every breath she took, the fabric that covered her nipples seemed to stroke across her and make her even tighter.
“Let me make you feel good, Payne. And we’ll see where this takes you.”
“Yes.” She lifted her hands to his face and pulled him to her mouth once more. “Please.”
Verily, as she would take nourishment from a vein, now she drew upon the warmth of his lips and the slick entrance of his tongue and the energy he called out of her.
Moaning into him, she was submersed in sensation, from the weight of her body on the bed, to the blood coursing throughout her, to the pulsing need between her legs and the delicious ache at her breasts.
“Healer.” She gasped as she felt her thigh get swept over by his palm.
He shifted back, and she was gratified that he was panting as well. “Payne, I want to do something.”
“Anything.”
He smiled. “May I unbraid your hair?”
For certain, her tresses were the last thing on her mind, but his expression was so rapt and intense, she could not deny him the request—or any part of herself. “But of course.”
His fingers trembled ever so slightly as he reached for the end of her braid. “I’ve wanted to do this since the moment I first saw you.”
Gradually, inch by inch, he freed the heavy weight of the black waves she kept long for no other reason than she was too disinterested to tend to them. Given his profound regard for what he revealed, however, she began to wonder if mayhap she’d far underestimated their significance.
When he was finished, he spread the lengths out o’er the bed and just sat back. “You are . . . indescribably beautiful.”
Having never viewed herself as even feminine, much less “beautiful,” it was an astonishment to hear the reverence in not just his words, but his voice.
“Indeed . . . you tie my tongue,” she said once again to him.
“Let me give you something else to do with it.”
As he joined her on the bed and lay beside her, she turned into the cushion of his pectorals and the hard expanse of his stomach. She was big compared to other members of her sex, her body retaining the power that had come from her sire’s side to the point where she often felt ungainly in comparison to other females: No willowy grace as the Chosen Layla had for her—in truth, she was built for fighting, not spiritual or sensual service.
Here with her healer, however, she felt rather perfectly proportioned. He had not the tremendous heft of her twin brother, but he was bigger and thicker than she was, in all the places a male should be: Lying with him in the dim room with their bodies so close together, and the temperature rising everywhere, she was not something that should not be, a malformation of girth and bulk, but an object of desire and passion.
“You’re smiling,” he whispered next to her mouth.
“Am I?”
“Yeah. And I love it.”
Over at her hip, his hands burrowed into her nightgown and she felt it all, from the light drift of his pinkie finger to the smooth skin of his palm to the hot trail his touch left behind as he slowly went upward. Closing her eyes, she arched into him, very aware that she was asking for something, yet unclear as to what exactly she was in search of—but she knew he would give it to her.
Yes, her healer knew exactly what she needed: That hand of his went up her rib cage and paused beneath her heavy, tender breasts.
“Is this okay?” she heard him ask from a great distance.
