If only he knew how often I didn’t bother with…sorting myself out. It did very little for me unless I was already feeling emotionally and cognitively aroused over someone. But tonight, his touch evoked pleasant tingles that spread out over my foot and climbed my leg.
He glanced up. “Your pulse is racing. Since I know you can’t feel pain, I can only assume that you’re deriving pleasure from my touch.”
“I don’t feel that either.” It was a lie when it came to him, but I didn’t need him knowing how he affected me.
He stilled. “What?”
“Pleasure.” I shrugged. “Pleasure and pain. Gone. It’s my special curse.”
He slowly lowered my foot. Then ran his hand from my ankle to my calf while maintaining eye contact. My pussy throbbed, and I pressed my thighs together to quell the sweet ache blooming there. I was dressed only in sleep shorts and a soft cotton shirt. Practically naked, and he was touching me. Oh, Trinity, I wanted him to continue to touch me.
“You can feel me?”
“Yes, obviously I feel it.” I kept my tone neutral. “It just… It doesn’t do anything for me.”
He pushed up on his knees, leaning forward to brace himself on the arms of my chair, his body close, too close. My breath quickened.
He licked his lips. “So…when you fuck…do you come?”
My stomach quivered, the way he said that damn word… “This is hardly an appropriate conversation.” I sounded like a prude, and I didn’t even care.
He frowned, gaze dropping to my parted mouth. “I’m curious. Tell me.”
I swallowed past the throb in my throat. “I’ve had orgasms, of course, but more because of what’s up here.” I tapped my temple. “Pleasure isn’t only about physical sensation, you know.”
He sat back on his heels with a look on his face that I couldn’t decipher. “You’re right. It isn’t. With the right partner, you could feel all kinds of pleasure.”
Was he offering? My mouth was suddenly dry as sandpaper. “I suppose so.”
The look on his face intensified, gaze darkening, and for a moment, I thought he might offer to show me, but then he dropped his gaze and reached for my foot again. “It’s late. Let’s get you cleaned up and into bed.”
The hollow place in my chest didnotmean that I was disappointed.
He finished cleaning and bandaging my feet with slow, precise movements. He had nice hands, large hands. Strong hands with long fingers and manicured nails. Hands that would look good against my skin.
Nope. Do not go there, Ana.
I turned my musings to safer topics. What traits and powers did a naga have aside from the ability to command water? Did he shift into a snake?
“You’re thinking hard,” Vitra said, sitting back on his heels again. “Care to share?”
“Do you shift into a snake?”
His mouth twitched. “Are you afraid of snakes?”
“Not afraid, but…I’m not a fan.”
“I’m not a snake, Miss Onyx. I’m a naga. There is a huge difference. Maybe I’ll show you sometime…” His sandalwood scent sharpened, stabbing at my senses, and his pupils went from round to slitted, then back again in a heartbeat. My stomach knotted, but not in fear. No, these knots were something else entirely.
“Oh, Anamaya, Anamaya, what will I do with you?” he crooned under his breath.
Whatever you wantwas the answer I wanted to give, but I swallowed the words and dropped my chin. “I should…sleep.”
“Yes, we both should.”
He led me down a short corridor with metallic purple wallpaper and stopped at the door to his bedroom, stepping aside to let me through.
I lingered a step as I passed him, closing my eyes briefly to allow his body heat to caress my skin and the soft cotton of his shirt to brush my bare arm.
