“I don’t want to talk about all that right now,” she said with a breathless lightness that he didn’t buy for a second. Had she guessed what he was about to say?
“What would you like to do then?” he asked gruffly, taking her hand to steady her as she stood.
“Lunch?” she asked. He blinked. Amusement pulled at her puffy lips. “Mrs. Hanson packed me enough for a platoon. I have it in the refrigerator. Then we can take a nap afterward?”
He couldn’t resist her small smile . . . so hopeful, so unintentionally yet blatantly seductive. He couldn’t resist her, period, and therein lay the crux of the problem. If he’d been able to resist her, he’d have been in contact with her since the first moment he fled to northern France to begin his search.
“Lunch sounds fantastic,” he said, standing and taking her into his arms, pleasure rippling through him at the sensation of her naked breasts against his ribs. He leaned down to seize her mouth, and he hoped she read all of his gratitude as well as his desire in that kiss. “But if you think we’re taking a nap afterward,” he said wryly next to her lips a moment later, hitching her body up higher against his so she could feel his growing arousal. “You’ve got another think coming.”
He saw her gaze flash up to meet his. Her laughter was like a warm, sunny day between bitter, lashing storms. There was no doubt. He was a selfish bastard. Of course he’d snatch at these stolen moments with her, greedy for every precious, golden second.
* * *
Much to her chagrin, he fastened his pants while he helped her put together their meal in the kitchen. When they returned to the bed, he insisted that she remove the coat she was using as a robe and eat her lunch naked.
“The vision of you is more sustenance than the food,” he said gruffly, halting her when she tried to pull the sheet up over her breasts. He acceded to allowing her to leave the coverings on her legs for warmth, but insisted she leave her sex exposed. She’d found plates, utensils, cups, and napkins in the kitchen and split the enormous sandwich and fruit for their lunch. As she leaned against the fluffed pillows, however, and nibbled at her sandwich, she found she’d lost her appetite. Ian stared with focused intensity at her mons, even as he distractedly ate. Finally, he gave up the pretense of eating, took a swig of cold milk and set aside his plate. Her breath caught when he turned and firmly parted her thighs.
“Oh,” she whimpered when he used his fingers to also part her labia. He leaned toward her, grabbed her plate in a seamless movement, and shoved it onto her bedside table.
“Have I ever told you that you have the prettiest pussy in existence?” he growled softly, nostrils flared, staring his fill at her pink, exposed flesh and clitoris.
“Once or ten thousand times,” she managed, repeating her familiar response to his similar questions in the past. Everything beneath his intense gaze prickled and burned.
He pressed on her clit with the ridge of his finger, both of them watching. The vision of his thick, masculine finger embedded in her delicate flesh was mesmerizing. She gasped in pleasure at his quick, concise caress on the sensitive flesh. He slid easily in the well-lubricated valley. When he moved his hand, she bit her lip in disappointment. He trailed his fingers over her hip and belly, spreading a thin coat of the juices he’d found in her cleft along her skin. She looked into his face. His small smile told her how much her wetness pleased him. He glanced at her plate on the table.
“You didn’t eat much. I was distracting you.”
“You were,” she said softly, blushing. “But that doesn’t mean the distraction was unwelcome.”
“Maybe.” He reached for the small bunch of grapes left on her plate. “But you should eat more, nevertheless.”
“I don’t want any more,” she said, reaching to caress the succulence of his bulging biceps, but he halted her gently, settling her hand on the mattress.
“You will eat more. I’m not the only one who has lost weight.”
“You should eat, too, then,” she countered with mock stubbornness.
He leaned back on the pillows with her and brought her into the circle of his arm. She smiled when he plucked a grape and pushed it against her lips. When she refused to part them, his smile widened at her playful challenge. He persisted in his mission, running the moist grape against her mouth, rubbing her with the fruit, tempting her . . .
He grunted in approval when she finally parted her lips enough and he pushed the fruit into her mouth, his finger lingering on her tongue. He lowered his head, watching his actions avidly. She closed her teeth around the intruder, scraping his skin erotically as he slowly removed his finger. She felt his cock swell next to her hip.
“Good girl,” he teased, plucking another grape while she chewed and swallowed the sweet fruit, suddenly ravenous for more.
He pushed another grape into her mouth, pausing to let her suck on his finger. She drew hard and felt his cock jump.
“If you had any idea what I think about doing to that sweet mouth of yours—what I was thinking about doing earlier—you wouldn’t tease me so much with it,” he grated out as he retrieved another grape.
“I have a pretty good idea what you’d like to do,” she said honestly, flavor bursting on her tongue as she chewed. “I want you to do it. You know that.”
He stilled in the process of lifting another grape to her lips, his gaze narrowing. “Do what, precisely?”
A light blush spread on her cheeks. “You know,” she murmured. His lifted his eyebrows expectantly. Was he serious? “Lose control more than just a little bit while you’re in my mouth. Not . . . hold yourself back like you usually do.”