Page 73 of Flint’s Strike

“No offense, Captain, but this one’s mine.” Nodding at the mattress, he adds, “Lie back. I’ll be right there.”

He groans as he gets to his feet, has to try twice before he can get the zipper over his erection, then swears under his breath, “Fuckin’ hell.” His boots trap the denim around his ankles, and he almost topples over before he manages to get them off, leaving only a pair of dark blue briefs covering a part of him I very much want to see.

Eliot takes his time getting on the bed. For a moment, I don’t understand why. Until he tries to put his weight on his left knee and winces. Before I can say a word, he adjusts, bracing one hand next to my hip while the other slides behind my back.

“Ain’t never seen a prettier sight.” He grins, releasing my bra clasp, and the piece of lace falls to the mattress. “But this is gonna get in the way.”

“Smooth, Flint. You plannin’ to magic my panties⁠—”

Eliot closes his lips around one of my nipples, and I can’t remember what I was so concerned about.

Sinking my hands into his hair, I ride the wave of sensation, holding him at my breast long enough, I’m about to come from that alone. With a tiny whimper, I manage to shift enough to cup his cheek and urge him to look at me. “You. Naked. Now.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

But he doesn’t leave the bed. Doesn’t tug off his briefs. He scoots toward the footboard, curls his fingers around the lace at my hips, and slides the panties past my knees.

“Eliot…”

He spreads my thighs, moving carefully until he’s on his stomach between them. The position costs him, I think. His left elbow is tight to his side, but he presses a kiss to my clit, and my back arches. God. It’s been too long since a man made me feel like this.

Beautiful.

Sexy.

Wanted.

His tongue sweeps through my folds. Time stops. The entire world could be on fire outside this room and I wouldn’t care. I need to come. Need him to go harder. Faster.

I tell him. Well, I think I tell him. I don’t hear the words over the roar of my heartbeat in my ears, but he knows what I need.

My heels press into the mattress. Hands grab the sheets. I can’t hold on. I’m flying. Higher and higher, until the bottom drops out from under me, and I scream his name.

Eliot

She’s not quiet when she comes. Hope my neighbors didn’t turn in early.

Her tremors ease slowly, each one smaller than the last. Even through the haze of her release, she’s careful with me. I can feel how hard she’s working to stay still. To keep her hands light against my chest, where her fingers have found a patch of healthy skin below my right collarbone.

“This…okay?” she murmurs, her voice thick and rough around the edges.

“More than. Don’t even think about movin’. I like you in my arms.”

“We ain’t done, Flint.” Eyes half-lidded, she still manages a decent glare. “You’re wearin’ your briefs. I told you to take those off.”

“You said naked. I figured that meant you.”

Her laugh soothes pieces of me that fractured years ago, and I tuck a lock of hair behind her ear. My lips find her temple, then the tip of her nose, her cheek, the curve of her jaw. I’m not ready to stop touching her, and words would only get in the way.

But Parker’s done being patient. She straddles me, pinning my hips to the bed with only a fraction of her weight, both hands on the headboard. “Okay?” she asks.

“The break was close to my knee. You’re just fine there.”

Her hair falls in a curtain around my head, and the way she kisses me—like there’s nowhere else in this world she’d rather be—is enough for my dick to start making demands I can’t ignore.

Wrapping my arms around her, I roll so she’s on her back, one peaked nipple pressing to a patch of skin with full sensation. I swallow a groan, and reach for the waistband of my briefs. I don’t know how the hell I’m supposed to get the damn things off without breaking contact, but I’ll figure it out.

The grafted skin across my back pulls taut. A spark of pain races along the margin, and then Parker’s fingers close around mine.