She tensed. Dishonesty was to be expected but it terrified her nonetheless. “About what?” she forced herself to ask in a calm tone that belied her inner turmoil.
“I do makeonepromise.”
“And what is that?” she whispered.
“Pleasure,” he murmured, and then he placed his warm hand on her stomach, spreading his thick fingers across her flesh as she arched slightly against him out of pure instinct and desire.
“That’s all I ask from you, all I want,” she choked out.
She cupped the back of his head and drew him down, drowning once more in his kiss as he stroked those fingers lower, lower, to her hip, to her thighs, and finally he pushed her legs open a fraction and rested his palm against her sex.
She broke the kiss with a gasp. She had forgotten what it was like to be touched so intimately. To feel the rush of desire flow through her and to want so much more than just the brush of fingers. In that wild moment she wanted those fingers inside of her, she wanted his tongue, she wanted his cock. She wanted everything, and she shuddered with the power of that unfettered desire.
And also unbridled terror.
“Doesn’t this hurt, using your bad arm to—” she began, struggling to sit up and bring reality back to this wild fantasy.
He laughed softly. “Stop being a healer for the next…half an hour,” he said. His smile widened. “Or hour. If there’s pain, it’s worth it.”
As he spoke, he parted her folds and stroked his finger across her entrance. He was gentle as he did so, almost teasing. She collapsed back at the touch and arched, almost against her will at the sensation. When she glanced up, she found him watching her face. Watching her surrender.
“More,” she groaned, because she couldn’t resist anymore.
His eyes widened. “I don’t want to hurt you.”
She caught her breath. He assumed she was untouched. That she was offering her virginity and he was trying his hardest to maintain control when he took it.
Her hands were shaking as she reached down and covered his hand with her own. She pressed him hard against her, feeling his finger breach her a fraction.
“There is nothing to hurt or to steal, Lucas,” she promised, her cheeks flaming as she whispered that confession. “Justtouchme.”
He stared at her a moment, his eyes wide and filled with questions. She prayed that spy part of him, that part that investigated and prodded and examined, would be silent. That he would let her have her secrets and just give her what she wanted in return.
And her answer was given when he drove two fingers deep inside of her. She bore down against him with a gasp of pleasure. He grunted his own and began to stroke deeply within her. He curled them as he pressed his thumb against her clitoris. She was writhing now, taken instantly to the edge of madness. To the edge of pleasure.
He took it with his skillful fingers, drawing her to the brink and then dragging her over the cliff. She arched her back, digging her heels hard into the bed as wave after wave of pleasure tore through her. Changed her. Reminded her of all she wanted and all she’d lost. She cried out his name as she shook and clawed and pled for more and for less.
At last the spiraling sensation eased and she flopped back against the pillows with a sigh of relief. He removed his fingers, held her gaze and lifted them to his lips, where he sucked her essence from the tips.
She shuddered as desire flowed through her again. She wanted more. It was obvious he did too.
She sat up and cupped his cheeks, kissing him deeply, tasting herself on his tongue for a brief moment. Then she pushed him back, taking the pressure off his battered body and rolling him to his back.
“The goddess takes control?” he teased, though his voice was thick with wanting, not anything playful.
“If you want to be in control, consider it incentive for you to do as you’re told and heal,” she said as she straddled him, shivering as his cock slid against the apex of her body, but not yet positioning herself to take him inside.
“Incentive, indeed,” he growled as he sat up a fraction and tugged her down for another kiss. His fingers tugged tight on her head, leading her despite his precarious position.
She shifted, sliding a hand between them. She stroked his cock from base to tip once, then twice, feeling him twitch with pleasure against her. Then she maneuvered him to her slick entrance and glided down over him in one slow stroke.
He broke the kiss with a wild cry as she fully took him. His hips bucked, forcing her to thrust, and she gripped the pillows on either side of his head as she began to ride him hard and heavy and fast. He dragged her back into the kiss and she lost herself to passion she’d never thought she’d ever experience again. She pushed harder, grinding down against him, seeking the release she’d already had again. Wanting it with greedy, miserly desire.
He reared up beneath her, and that crash of their pelvises gave her what she desired. She cried out, driving her tongue into his mouth as she came for what felt like a blissful eternity. He caught her hips and kept her moving, drawing out her pleasure.
When she could refocus at last, she saw how his neck strained, how his breath was ragged. With a yelp, she moved away from him, caught the length of his cock and stroked him, keeping up the rhythm that had been created until he jolted out a cry and his essence spurted from him in heavy bursts.
She collapsed beside him, tucking herself into his good shoulder as he wrapped his arms around her. He did not speak or ask her questions, she did not offer explanations or discussion. It was peace and quiet and gentle pleasure. And that was how she fell asleep, in his arms and in his bed.
