Licking his way into her mouth, he pinched her nipple ever so slightly. “Let me get this off you,” he said as he found the bottom of her johnny with his other hand. “I’m going to take care of you down below.”
She worked with him as he stripped her bare and discreetly removed her equipment. When she was utterly and completely naked, he was momentarily dry mouthed and immobile at the sight of her. Her breasts were perfectly formed, with little pink nipples, and her long, flat stomach led down to a bare cleft that had his head pounding.
“Healer . . . ?”
When all he did was swallow hard, she reached for the sheet to pull it across and hide her body.
“No . . .” He stopped her. “Sorry. I just need a minute.”
“To what?”
Climax, in a word. Unlike her, he knew precisely what all this naked was heading toward—in about a minute and a half, his mouth was going to be all over her. “You’re incredible . . . and you have nothing to be shy about.”
Her body was insane, all lean muscle and luscious, smooth skin—as far as he was concerned, she was the perfect female, bar none. Christ, he’d never been even half this desperate for those sticks-and-stones social X-rays, with their hard-as-nails boob jobs and their stringy arms.
Payne was powerful, and that was pure sex as far as he was concerned. But she was absolutely going to leave this experience with her virginity intact. Yeah, she wanted what he was giving her, but it wasn’t fair, under these circumstances, to take something she was never getting back: In the quest to return her legs to some sort of functioning, she might well go farther than she would have if it was just sex for the enjoyment of it.
This shit between them was all about purpose.
And the fact that that left him a little hollow was nothing he wanted to look too closely at.
Manny leaned into her. “Give me your mouth, bambina. Let me in.”
As she did what he asked, he inched his hand back to her perfect breast.
“Shh . . . easy,” he told her as she nearly jacked off the bed.
Fucking hell, she was lightning in a bottle, and for a moment he imagined what it would be like to ride those rocking hips and take her hard.
Cut that shit right now, Manello, he told himself.
Disengaging from her mouth, he nuzzled his way down the side of her neck and briefly sank his teeth into her collarbone—just enough so that she felt it, not enough to hurt. And as her hands dug into his hair, he knew by the strength of her grip and the way she panted that she wanted him to go exactly where he was heading.
Palming the outside of her breast, he extended his tongue and dragged a slow trail down to that tight pink top. Circling her nipple, he watched her bite down on her lower lip, her fangs cutting into the flesh and drawing a sliver of bright red blood.
Without conscious thought, he surged up and captured what had been shed, lapping it and swallowing—
His eyes slammed shut at the taste: rich and dark, thick and smooth on the back of his throat. His mouth tingled . . . and then so did his gut.
“No,” she said in a guttural voice. “You must not do that.”
As he forced his lids open, he watched her own tongue come out and do away with what little was left.
“Yes. I must,” he heard himself say. He needed more. So much more—
She put her fingertip on his lips and shook her head. “No. You shall go mad from it.”
He was going to go mad if he didn’t have a whole mouthful; that’s what he was going to do. Her blood was like cocaine and Scotch together on an intravenous drip: From that shallow swallow, his body had become Superman’s, his chest pumped up, all the muscles in him swelling with power.
As if she were reading his mind, she grew firm. “No, no . . . not safe.”
She was probably right—take out the probably. But that didn’t mean he wasn’t going to try again, assuming he got another chance at it.
He went back to her nipple, sucking it in and flicking. When she arched again, he pushed his arm under her and lifted her up to him. All he could think about was getting in between her legs with his mouth . . . but he wasn’t sure how that was going to go over. He needed to keep her in this sweet zone of arousal—not spook her with the kind of shit men liked to do to their women.
He settled for taking his hand where he wanted his lips to be, sweeping his palm slowly down her rib cage and to her stomach. Lower, to her hips. Lower, to her upper thighs.
“Open for me, Payne,” he told her, switching to her opposite nipple and working it with a suck. “Open yourself so I can touch you.”