I flushed and looked away from him, my legs rubbing against each other at his words.
He slid the panties up my legs, his lips following along, creating a heated trail up my left leg.
I gasped when he pressed his lips against my center on top of the thin fabric.
“Fuck, but I missed the taste of you.”
He pulled away, a regretful expression in his eyes, and I could only look at him, trying to catch my breath.
His hands skimmed the outside of my legs, moving up to my hips. He gripped me in his large, scarred hands before letting them go up to my middle. His pointer finger moved across my navel. My mouth opened, but nothing came out. I was flushed. Heat moved from my cheeks down my chest. My breasts felt heavy, my nipples tightened, and my hands clenched into tight fists by my sides.
“Do you know how badly you get to me, looking like this?”
I shook my head. No, I didn’t …
But I was beginning to figure it out.
He dressed me quickly, tucking me back in bed.
“I’m not sleepy,” I complained.
“You don’t have to sleep. Just rest.”
“I’ve rested plenty.”
A shadow crossed over his eyes. “What you were doing for the last three days wasn’t rest. You fucking fainted after being shot, and you—” He looked away and pinched the bridge of his nose. “You wouldn’t fucking wake up.”
I took a deep breath. I hadn’t realized how badly my injury affected them, but looking at Damien now, I could clearly see that was the case. I leaned over and grabbed his hand.
He looked down at it but didn’t say anything.
“Come to bed with me,” I said softly. I wasn’t sleepy, but it looked like Damien could use a good nap himself.
“I can’t.”
I dipped my head, peeking up at him questioningly.
“I don’t want to hurt you.”
Understanding filled my eyes, and I tugged harder on his hand. Finally, he climbed into bed, and I moved to the side, trying not to wince when I accidentally pressed up against the wound on the bed.
He settled in and wrapped his arms around me. I rested my head on his chest, staring off to the side.
He felt tense for a second before he let out a small sigh and finally relaxed against me.
I smiled and pressed a small kiss on his chest. His fingers stopped moving through my hair for a quick second before they picked back up again.
“Sleep, pet. I won’t let anything happen to you.”
I wasn’t worried. And I didn’t know if he was saying that for my benefit or his.
I snuggled closer to him. “I know,” I sighed, letting my finger move over to the star tattoo I knew from memory was on his chest. “Where’s Mikhail?”
“Around,” he murmured dismissively. He tightened his arms around me. “No more questions. Sleep.”
I fought against the urge to yawn. I shouldn’t be this sleepy. But I was tired, and my eyes were getting heavy.
Something about the way he answered me about where Mikhail was worried me.