It hurt him right now, in the chest, the throat. Just her presence made his insides dance.
He should let go of her. Should make his limbs obey, slow his pulse to a reasonable rate. He should force his lower half to retreat, given the hardness growing between them.
He’d just opened his mouth to suggest they get dressed after all and eat something, maybe separate their bed in two, when her voice cut through, each word reverberating past his rib cage to thrum at his heart. “I want to do it some more.”
He couldn’t breathe, couldn’t budge, couldn’t believe he’d actually heard the right words. One second she was mad that they couldn’t keep their hands off each other and the next, this. “Say that again.”
“I’m done fighting it. Kiss me, Elias. Heat me up.”
Those words burned his skin the way her eyes would if he could see them, searing their way from his scalp to the soles of his feet. His cock was a brand pulsing against their bellies.
There’d never be a better invitation, at least not one he was dying to accept. Before the next heartbeat, he was on her.
Chapter 30
Leo had tried just about everything within reason. She’d smoked some things and drunk her fair share. Her thirst for speed made her face incomparable danger—on her bike, in the air, on missions with her teammates by her side. She’d shot at people, taken enemy fire, performed daredevil feats that most wouldn’t consider.
Yet somehow, this was the biggest risk of her life.
Not because she’d put her body in peril, but something else. Something she’d never realized hung in the balance. Leo had desires, like everyone. Bodily needs. A thirst for life. Opinions. She sought thrills and experiences. But usually that was it. Emotions weren’t involved in any of it. And her heart had certainly never been part of the equation before. This new reality scared the hell out of her.
“Where?” Elias asked, the question blasting through the tight, dark space.
“Where what?”
“Where do you want me to kiss you?”
Ooohhh.He was handing that first belly kiss right back to her. Her skin prickled at the possibilities.
Then she got to thinking… Where had she meant when she’d asked for a kiss? On the lips, obviously. But then the question opened things up until—oh hell, the options seemed endless.
That was the thing with this man—he was one big surprise. Unexpected. Abrupt. Unknown. The world was bigger when he was around.
“Where were you thinking?” she breathed, not flirtatious but curious.Dyingto know. Out of nowhere, scenarios blasted to life—every inch of her skin screamed to be touched.
One big hand left her back, scattering goose bumps in its wake, and slowly, methodically dragged a fiery path down her spine to the curve of her ass, around to her hip, where it clenched for a split second before moving on. He shifted away just enough to run his fingers between them and down, to stroke the curly hair at her mound.
A startledohleft her mouth, more air than voice, and his hand responded as if they weren’t two beings but separate parts of a whole—two ends of a taut cord. He dipped a single finger between her legs with the slightest, quickest of touches, barely skimming her lips, though it set her off like a tuning fork, its echo shimmering in the dark night.
By the time she caught her breath, his hand had left her soft center to travel up over the round rise of her belly, sinking into her bellybutton—just a swirl—then to her rib cage, where it took in the rise and fall of her breathing. Not breathing, gasps. She was panting and moaning, and when his callused skin reached the underside of her breast—the soft part that had never had this many nerve endings—she grunted. Like an animal.
He cupped her there, held her, as if this spot, this body, this exhausted shell were somehow precious.
She wasn’t precious or fragile, not the way this massive hand made her feel in this tight, warm space. She was tough, hard as nails, fast, furious, and ready to face anything.
It didn’t make sense when his fingers drew a sob from her lips. And they hadn’t even reached her nipple yet, so she couldn’t blame it on hormones or lust or the magic of that hypersensitive place. It was the spot between her breasts that he’d claimed now—a place no one ever noticed during sex. A place that had no nerve endings as far as she knew. And yet, his sandpaper hands showed her otherwise.
I’ll kiss you here,they said.And here.The promise grazed her nipple, drawing a whimper, the sound like nothing she’d uttered before, and then coasted up, up to her collarbone, which he learned as if he’d been meaning to for a while.
A while, she almost laughed at that idea. As if they’d known each other for longer than the time it had taken to get here.
But then that thought deserted her, flew away like a balloon in the air when he cupped her chin, his hand so large it cradled her jaw and her ear and made her feel tiny before his beard brushed her face, and then his mouth did the same, and she was gone.
Drawn into this kiss as quickly as the others, scorched by his intent, consumed by his want—and hers, if she was honest. She’d never wanted a person like this, never craved these sweet, tiny touches.
And he’d barely touched her, barely moved, just brushed those dry lips to hers, giving her the time to move, to take over like she usually did.
But she didn’t. Why would she when giving herself to this man’s slow, tender mastery was every bit as dangerous as jumping off this cliff?
