This time when he growled, the rumble echoed through her whole body, igniting a blaze that might never be extinguished.
His body tensed and the tendons in his neck drew tight.
She kissed them too.
“Dizzie.” So much strain and desire in that one little word.
Balancing on their palms again, she pushed upright and tried to tug her hands free. She needed them for the rest of her exploration.
Instead of letting her go, he tightened his grip. “Stay.”
That damn sexy growl again.
“Killian,” she growled back.
He released her hands, but his gaze promised retribution.
She trailed her nails over his wrist and his forearms. Lightly. So lightly, using just enough nail to make him shiver. Not nearly enough to break the skin.
Dizzie didn’t have much experience with the playful side of sex, but she was loving every minute of it. Every minute of him.
While deciding what to do next, she shifted her weight and her core rubbed against the ridge in Killian’s pants. “Oh!”
The contact, the friction, felt damn good, so she did it again.
The second time, his hips lifted to meet her, double the pressure. Doubling the intensity of her gasp.
He groaned in response.
Wanting skin to skin, she trailed her fingers over his chest, smoothing the garish shirt over the hard muscles beneath it. “Is this your favorite shirt?”
“What?” He stared up at her with desire-glazed eyes. “No.”
“Second favorite?” She slipped her fingertip beneath the first button.
“No. Hate this shirt,” he ground out.
“Good.” The first button popped off. Her nail slid to the top of the small gap created by the missing button.
“Why do you own it?” Pop.
His shrug reverberated through her whole body.
Holy shit.
“Probably for a party.”
Pop.
Her mind boggled. To have such a large wardrobe that you didn’t remember where it all came from.
Dizzie refocused on her task, ignoring the reminder of their different worlds. The last few buttons were no match for her nails.
She peeled his shirt to the side, revealing his bare chest, and sucked in a sharp breath. Bruises mottled his skin with ugly purples and greens scattered here and there. She frowned at the reminder of the hotel bombing.
“It’s okay,” he whispered.
If he wasn’t letting it bother him, she wouldn’t either. For now.
