Page 71 of A Matter of Time

“You got lube?” I raised my eyebrows. “For me?”

He looked pained, and it was both endearing and adorable at the same time.

“You’re a mess,” I assured him gently, motioning him closer.

He wrapped me in his arms and kissed me, shifting to bear down on me, his mouth slanting over mine so possessively, so urgently that I whimpered.

“Jesus,” he groaned, his mouth on my throat, kissing me. “I wanna fuckin’ eat you.” It was a confession from his soul since his brain was turned off, so I put my hands on his face again and kissed him back, sucking, biting, and making sure my tongue missed no part of his mouth. I gave as good as I got and felt the deep shiver that came with his surrender.

I trembled in his arms, and he made a noise like he was dying.

“Shit, something’s wrong with me.”

“No.” I soothed him, kissing his eyes, his cheeks, his brows, and the bridge of his nose.

“I’m all twisted up,” he grumbled under his breath. “I fuckin’ hate this.”

“It’s okay.” I smiled slowly. “I’ll take care of you.”

He eased back and looked down into my eyes. “You can’t even take care of yourself.”

I felt like I could fly. “But I can make your life so nice.”

“The hell you can,” he almost shouted at me, rough as he rolled me onto my stomach, but gentle when he put his hand in my hair, knee between my legs to spread them.

I arched my back like a cat, up into him, and his mouth grazed my skin. The strangled sound that came out of him made me smile.

“Jory.”

I slid out of his grip and rolled over on my back, lifting my knees and holding out my arms for him. “You’re fighting so hard.” I sighed. “Just stop. Just breathe.”

He took a shuddering breath before he bent and gathered me close, holding me tight, pressing me along the length of him. His hands slid down my body, and when his mouth followed, I begged him. The change in him in so short a time was staggering, the understanding of what I wanted and his confidence in what he could do. I didn’t need to offer any more instruction. The mechanics no longer a mystery, his hands, his mouth, moved expertly over my skin as he chanted my name.

The rain woke me with its steady drum on the window. I smiled as warm hands moved down my rib cage, then over my stomach, kneading, caressing, gentle and arousing at the same time.

“Don’t you hafta go to work?” I teased him, surprised at myself for all the sleeping I was doing. Sex had never worn me out before. And maybe it was the concussion as well, slight or not. Who knew?

“I can’t leave you alone.” His voice was husky, slicing right through me, causing a shiver.

Stretching languidly, I rolled over onto his sculpted chest, my head over his heart.

“Fuck.”

I lifted my head.

“What?” he asked gruffly.

“I dunno.” I stared into his eyes. “You’re the one swearing.”

He put his hand in my hair and massaged my scalp, easing my head back down onto his chest.

“Tell me what’s wrong.”

“Nothin’s wrong. That’s the goddamn problem.”

And that made no sense, but I let it go, enjoying his hands on me too much to question him.

“Shit.”