She shivered. “Yeah, but I don’t like being forced.” Force me. Wait. What?
Rather than sink his teeth into her neck, he moved lower. Kissed her sternum as if she weren’t wearing a T-shirt. “I’m not forcing you.”
What was he planning to do? “Are you purposely frustrating me, then?”
“No. I’m trying to relieve your frustration, and collect my reward.” Lower still. He stopped and rested his chin on her pubic bone, looking up at her without any emotion. “You do want to reward me for helping AIR, yes?”
“Yes.” She gulped. “Just … promise me that you won’t stop time for me again.”
He snorted. “I’ll make no such promise. You use what weapons you have at your disposal, and I use what weapons I have.”
Irrefutable.
A few minutes passed, yet he never moved from his new position. Finally, she forced her gaze away from his beautiful face. His blank expression had never wavered, and she feared what her expression revealed. Longing. Need. More of that confusion.
She peered up at her ceiling, flat, white, but every second that ticked by caused her anticipation to intensify. When would he move? When he did move, what would he do? And why was she giving him this time? She should find the strength to stand and walk away. If he felt nothing, she didn’t want to feel anything either.
“Why aren’t you running away from me?” he asked, breaking the silence. “I could do anything I wanted to you, and you wouldn’t be able to stop me.”
Promises, promises. “I’m not afraid of you.”
“Others are.”
“Well, why aren’t you running from me?”
“I’m not afraid of you.”
“Others are,” she parroted.
He kissed the flare of her hip, soft, sweet. “Your ni**les are hard.”
Way to change the subject, she thought, shivering. “I know.” No reason to deny the obvious.
“I’ve seen them, you know.” His voice was drugging desire, melted and poured over her.
Do not moan. Do not arch. “When?”
“When I stripped you. The first night I met you.”
Do not cup your br**sts. “You left me in my bra and panties.”
“Actually, I stripped you naked, then decided to return your undergarments to protect your modesty when you traveled home.”
Do not ask him to demonstrate exactly how he stripped you. “So … did you cop a feel?” She nibbled on her bottom lip, gaze returning to him unbidden. Mistake. Or not.
No longer did he appear unaffected. The color had reignited in his cheeks, his eyes an inferno of the desire she’d heard in his voice. This was more than hunger on his part. This was need. Why had he tried to hide it? The answer didn’t matter, really. She reacted. Moan, yes. Arch, definitely. There was no stopping her now.
“Cop a feel?” He blew on her belly, warm breath seeping past her shirt. “Are you asking if I touched you?”
A fever spread through her, pulling her skin taut. “Yes, that’s exactly what I’m asking.” And begging for.
“No. I didn’t.” Another breath wafted over her. “But I wanted to,” he added on a moan of his own.
Pulling … tauter and tauter … “So you liked what you saw?” Whispers, echoes of her need.
“Oh, yes.”
“Even though I’m a lowly human?”
A minute passed, then another. He never replied, and she was glad. She hadn’t meant to voice the fear, or even acknowledge it, but it was there, buried deep, yet somehow never far from the surface. Right now, though, she didn’t care. Couldn’t. The here and now was for pleasure, only pleasure. Pleasure he wanted, too, no matter the other things that had passed between them.
He smoothed her T-shirt away from the waist of her jeans, revealing a patch of needy skin. His tongue dipped inside her navel, swirling, and the fever spread again, causing her veins to expand.
Another moan slipped from her.
“Say the word, and I’ll open your jeans and move lower.”
Anything. “What word?”
“Yes.”
And have his tongue dip into her core, licking, sucking, tasting? Her body arcing into him, demanding more? Satisfaction leaving her utterly sated? Until the fever returned—and it would return.
“No.” A tiny voice of reason in the face of unequivocal temptation. Still. Stupid, stupid girl. But she couldn’t regret her decision. Much. A kiss on the mouth could be written off. Heavy petting, too. But a kiss between the legs? No. That was sex.
He stiffened, lifted slightly. “Why not?”
She almost grabbed his head, almost pressed him back against her stomach. She had an excuse for her resistance, she knew she did, she just had to remember what it was. An eternity ago, she’d even told Noelle—oh, yeah. It came to her in a rush. “I just can’t sleep with an AIR target.”
“I’m helping AIR.”
“So.” An uncaring statement meant for her, not him.
“And besides, we wouldn’t be sleeping.” He darted back up, covering her body with his own. “We would be pleasuring.” His weight shot the air from her lungs, and as she opened her mouth to breathe, he descended. No more hesitation. No more lingering.
His tongue plundered deep, destroying her reason. Their teeth scraped, and his hands slid underneath her, lifting her up, pressing her into his erection. Finally, rubbing. Hard. Perfect.
Another moan emerged. So good. Stupid clothes. She despised them. Wanted to rip them off. Almost ripped his off, as her fingers kneaded his back, traced the length of his spine.
The rasp of their exhalations crackled in the air. They continued to grind against each other, propelling her need to new, vehement heights. Soon she was groaning, gasping, biting at him. No blood, she thought. No blood. There was a reason, but again, she had to remember what it was.
He didn’t seem to care what she did. He just fed her kiss after electrifying kiss, panting, sweating, groping. Unrelenting.
This was what she’d wanted, what she’d needed. And as always with this man, being with him was heaven and hell. She knew she should stop, but couldn’t. Consequences were for tomorrow, pleasure for today. Right?
He lifted one of his hands and massaged her breast, fingers rolling against her hardened nipple. How she ached. How she craved. More, more, more.
You already told him no more, she thought, that small kernel of reason returning.
Stupid.