“You can’t even bend to lace your boots up right now. I can tell you’re in pain. Just let me help you.”
Bad idea. I exhale through my nose. “Serena.”
“Zadyn.”
She cocks her hip, her lavender eyes piercing a hole right through my chest. I know there’s no winning this fight, so I sigh, tossing my hands up.
She slips her arms beneath me and hauls me up with a quiet grunt. I drape my arms over her shoulders, trying likehell not to breathe in the intoxicating fragrance lingering in her hair. Her fingers brush against my navel, and I suck in a sharp breath.
“Are you okay?”
“Your hands are fucking freezing.”
Her giggle vibrates against my chest. “I’m almost done.”
She hooks her fingers over my waistband and pushes my pants down. My face is buried in that hair, so close to the pulse crashing against the tide of her perfect skin.
“Okay, I’m going to sit you down.”
We stumble back, slamming into the chair, her arms still tangled around me. Her mouth lingers so close to mine, but then she pulls back and sinks onto her knees.
She’s on herknees.
In front of me. And I am sans pants. Of all the ways I’ve imagined this playing out, this one didnotmake the list.
Her fingers dip into the salve, and she begins to slather it over my legs, starting at my feet and working her way up to my calves. I clutch the wooden armrests hard enough to snap them clean off. The feel of her fingers kneading my numb muscles, slowly working life back into them…It takes everything in me to hold myself back.
Her hands glide up to my thighs, and I hiss.
“Sorry,” she mumbles.
“Why are you sorry?”
“I feel like you’re in pain. Am I hurting you?”
I tip my head back and laugh. “No, I’m not in pain. I’m trying to focus.”
“On what?”
“On anything but your hands on me.”
Her mouth forms a little “O” shape as her hands still.
“Do you—do you want me to stop?”
Does she not know what she’s doing to me? The way she’s teasing me? Tempting me?
“Not really. It’s working.”
And it is. I feel more sensation in my lower extremities than I care to right now.
“Oh. Good.”
She resumes working the salve into my quads, and I have to channel all of my concentration elsewhere. I try to think of the most disgusting things I can, conjure the most grotesque images, but none of it can chase away the need building within me.
Her palms shift higher, disappearing beneath the hem of my undershorts. Her pinky nail grazes my hip, and my hand shoots out to grip her wrist.
“You don’t have to go any higher.” I swallow. “I have feeling from the hips up.”
