Gus’ hips pinned her in place, her legs spread wide. She was helpless. Trapped.
A shiver of need hardened her nipples and made her thigh muscles tremble, though the arousal felt cloudy, not as clear and bright as she was used to with…
With Eric.
Nikolett grabbed Gus’ arms, pleased by the thick, heavy muscle she felt there. He rumbled his approval, bracing one hand on the wall by her shoulder as he leaned in. His lips brushed her temple, sliding down to her ear even as his hand slid from her thigh to her knee, touching the top of the cast.
“This comes off? I figured since you have the stocking on under it…”
“Yes. There are buckles.”
Gus kissed her once, hard and fast, his hand cupping the back of her head to hold her in place. The kiss felt like a command.Stay here.
Another shiver raced down her, and her breathing was shallow with need as he once more took a knee, this time unceremoniously shoving her skirt up to her thigh to examine the cast.
Yes. Hard, hot, and fast, so I don’t have time to think.
“You kneel a lot,” she said breathlessly.
Once more an old fantasy ignited. Her the warrior queen, a loyal king kneeling at her feet, pledging to protect her at all costs.
The fantasy had been born from an amalgamation of elements from high fantasy stories found on that beloved e-reader, a quiet, desperate hope for someone to protect her, and later the folklore tales of powerful dangerous women her grandmother liked to tell.
Becoming admiral, actually being in a position of power over many dangerous warrior-like men and women had mostly killed off that fantasy for her. Life as the leader was much more personnel management than dramatic courtly love.
But right now, those images, old and worn like pages of a book, flipped through her mind. Instead of sitting on a cabinet, she was on a throne. Instead of a well-fitting dress shirt, the man kneeling before her wore armor.
“I’m too big.” He spoke in an offhanded way, clearly distracted as he examined the first buckle. “I intimidate people when I get close to them, so I kneel. Unless I want to scare them.”
That statement smacked her out of the fantasy. It also merited further examination, but he was freeing the last buckle, carefully easing the two pieces of the cast off her leg and setting it to the side.
She shivered, leg cold with the cast removed.
Gus gripped her ankle, his long fingers closing all the way around it. Nikolett swallowed hard, closing her eyes as she rested her head back against the wall. His fingers banded herankle like a cuff, pressing firmly into her skin. Implacable and commanding.
His hot hand slid up her ankle, grip tight. Compressing, controlling. Further up?—
She sucked in a breath that whined at the back of her throat, eyes popping open in pain.
Gus jerked back, arms up as if she had him at gunpoint. “Nikolett?”
The stab of pain from where his fingers had pressed into her healed-but-still-tender wound faded, but it was too late. He’d noticed her reaction.
“What did I… Did I hurt you? Was I too rough? I was trying to be gentle.”
She could explain, but she didn’t want to let go of the intimacy. After the utter lack of feeling with Laszlo, her reaction to Gus, especially given the shockingly similar circumstances, felt too precious to risk. Given her continued intrusive thoughts about Eric, she wasn’t going to risk losing the growing familiarity. Rather than explain in words, which might have shifted the mood back to something neutral, she decided to show him.
Nikolett gripped the elastic top of the stocking, folding it over and then sliding it down her thigh, over her knee.
“Help me?” she asked gently, realizing that to get it off, she’d have to lean so far forward she might fall off her perch.
Gus flashed her a worried smile and reached for her leg. Gingerly, he slid the stocking down her calf exposing the bandages.
Two large bandages bracketed her calf. These were taupe rather than the clear ones Elena had used, and hid the damaged skin underneath, but the size and placement spoke to the extent of the injury.
He paused for a moment, then rolled the nylon over her ankle and off her foot. Then he cupped her heel, compressing it in his big hand in a way that made her swallow a moan.
“Ah, lass, I put my hand right on it.”
