She whimpered. “I understand.”
And then it was too much. He couldn’t hold back anymore. He wanted to lose himself in a way he never had before.
He shifted back up onto his knees, hauling her with him until she straddled him, open on his lap. “Take us over, Keely love. You do it.”
Her eyes opened. So close to his. “Are you sure?”
“Yes.” He was. He didn’t have to be in total control. Not all the time. Not with her.
She raised herself slowly and then slid back down his length, finding her rhythm as he steadied her. Finding the angle that ground her clit down over the base of his cock, seating herself on him again and again.
All he did was hold her, one hand on her hip, the other supporting her back, using his strength to balance them both so she could soar.
Her movements faltered, her breath panting in rough gasps beside his ear as her hips rolled frantically and his spine tingled in pulsing waves, his balls pulling up, tight against his body.
Gods. Any second now.
He ran his hand up her back to her hair, threading his fingers in the strands, bringing her face down so he could kiss her, open-mouthed, panting heavily as their tongues danced and writhed together, sharing each other’s air.
He slid his other hand between them, using his thumb to add a constant pressure on her clit, following her movements. Keely shuddered, her body grinding in his lap as she gasped out his name. Her inner walls clamped down, and her hips jerked forward helplessly as she buried her face in his neck and came, quivering and writhing on his lap.
Tor followed right behind, letting himself go, thrusting up into her clenching heat in a wave of ecstasy unlike anything he’d ever experienced in his life before.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Keely saton the side of the bed pulling on her clothes while Tor leaned back against the wall and watched her. He had his arm bent behind his head, bunching his biceps, and her eyes lingered for a moment on the sharp ink of his tattoos over his arms, the rough hair on his chest trailing away beneath the blanket gathered in his lap.
Damn. She hauled her eyes back up his body, determined not to give in and rip her clothes back off and get back into bed. “We have to get up,” she said as she pulled on her boots.
“Yes, we do,” he agreed, not moving an inch.
She grinned and then leaned over and kissed him gently, feeling the muscles in his abdomen bunching under her hand. He wrapped his fingers around her neck and held her closer.
She broke the kiss and ran her fingers through his dark hair. It had grown since she first met him, and now it was sleep-mussed and standing in different directions. Not that they’d had a huge amount of sleep. They’d spent the night slowly exploring each other’s bodies, whispering to each other in the warm darkness, coming together again and again. Sometimes he took her so slowly she thought she would explode if he didn’t move. Sometimes hard and fast. But every time felt like a promise.
“If we don’t get up, we’ll miss the report on the Wraiths’ camp,” she reminded him.
Tor groaned and pressed one last kiss against her lips before letting her go and then swinging his legs out the opposite side of the bed. He stood, dropping the blanket, and she lost track of her thoughts as she watched his ass muscles bunching as he pulled on his breeches.
He must have heard her stifled groan, because he turned to grin at her over his shoulder. “I’m not the one who wanted to get out of bed.”
Had she ever seen him look so relaxed? So disheveled and playful. And so insanely attractive?
She stuck out her tongue, and then quickly closed her mouth when his eyes dropped to her lips and he took a step closer. Almost close enough to reach across and pull her back down to the bed.
“No, not again.” She shook her head, as much at herself as at him. “The pea needs breakfast.”
He chuckled as he pulled on his shirt. “Then the pea must have breakfast.”
They were still smiling when they walked into the mess hall, but within a second of walking through the door, she knew something was wrong.
The Hawks and Daena were in the hall, the other guards conspicuously absent, and the room was silent. Val was sitting with an arm curled protectively over the back of Alanna’s chair, while Alanna leaned back with her arms crossed over her chest. Rafe and Jos were frowning heavily. All of them were glaring at Daena, who was self-consciously rubbing her face.
Keely and Tor paused for a moment in the entrance, their relaxed banter fading in the heavy atmosphere. Tor reached down to take her hand, lacing his fingers through hers. It had been a bloody long time since she’d held hands with someone. Strangely, this felt almost as intimate as everything else they’d done. And a great deal more on display. She pushed down the shiver of nerves; she was a grown woman, and he was the father of her child.
She glanced up at him to see a strangely uncertain look on his face, a furrow deepening across his forehead. His fingers tightened in hers and then slowly released. As if he had to force them apart.
Bard, he’d felt her tension and he was giving her space. Despite everything they’d shared, he still expected her to push him away.
