He was staring at her.
She pulled her hand from between her thighs, face burning with embarrassment.
“I was dreaming,” she muttered, turning to roll off her side of the bed, but he moved quickly, covering her upper body with the weight of his, caging her.
“You were dreaming. Of him? In my bed?” he asked, voice dangerously growly and threatening as he touched his nose to her ear and along her jaw like he had last night, but this morning she felt the thick length of his erection against her thigh. Her fingers still wet with her own pleasure; she wanted to reach down and settle his erection between her legs.
She sighed.
“I wasn’t dreaming of Derrick.”
She felt him smile against her jaw.
“Were you dreaming about me, little wren?”
She opened her eyes just so he could see her roll them.
He laughed deep in his chest, making hers vibrate with his joy.
“You’rehighlysusceptible to the syndrome. One of the first signs is me becoming the man of your dreams.”
She laughed, half-heartedly trying to push him off her, yet somehow, he was more fully on top, hips between her widening thighs which were quick to make room for him.
“What’s the second symptom?” she asked daringly while placing her hands against the small of his back. Clearly, he still didn’t understand that backing away from a challenge wasn’t something that came naturally to her. Pulling down the neck of her tank top, he tucked it beneath her breasts, creating a loose kind of bustier.
Taking a nipple into his mouth, he sucked gently, head moving up and down slowly; the motion creating an equal and not so gentle pulsing in her womb. Her hips rose and retreated with a rhythm that grew harder, faster.
His hand slid between their bodies and found her?—
“Uhm!”
Between his mouth and his hand, she couldn’t...she couldn’t…
“You feel that, Lauren?” he rasped. “That shaking your body is doing. That’s the second symptom. And this”—she looked between their bodies where he was gliding his fingers through her arousal—“the way you’re weeping here; another symptom.” He slid his fingers inside her and she moaned, hips rising, muscles contracting, her body’s shaking turned to quaking. “You’ve become infected. You can’t save yourself. No medicine other than what my body can give, will save you.”
His voice was falsely soothing as he continued to stoke the fire raging inside of her womb.
“Tell me to stop now, and maybe the fever will burn itself out.”
“No, don’t stop. Don’t stop,” she pled.
He smiled triumphantly then lowered his forehead to her collarbone, pulling his fingers from her body. He gripped her thighs, widening them as he released his erection and reached toward his nightstand.
“Hey! League!” a voice shouted from outside the balcony window, followed by a series of sounds Lauren could only describe as a tribal holler.
“Paperwork awaits, brother! I need signatures before I can start killing bad guys again. One minute!” the man warned.
Santiago completely collapsed on top of her. “I’m going to kill him.”
“You’re killing me,” she said struggling to breathe.
Lifting slightly, he secured himself back in his boxers.
“You know, if you don’t get treatment soon, yours will be a slow death. I’m sorry for it.”
“Your delusions areentrenched.” She laughed, though she hadn’t felt this sexually desperate for a man in… Had she ever?
“Get off before your recruit comes up here,” she said, pushing against his shoulders.
