She busied herself looking for supplies in the first-aid kit as he eased back. He didn’t speak as he sat on the couch beside her. When she had what she thought she’d need, she turned to face him and her eyes immediately ran to his hips. His legs shifted open, and that massive erection pushed against his boxer briefs, just begging for her attention.
Oh, God. Sweat broke out on her forehead. Her pulse kicked up, and all the blood in her body rushed due south.
Focus, Casey.
She swallowed hard and zeroed in on the bandage on his thigh. Her fingers shook slightly as she reached for the corner of the tape and slowly peeled it away. He drew in a sharp breath, and for a moment she thought she’d hurt him. But when she glanced up to make sure he was all right, she saw pure, unadulterated lust tighten the features of his chiseled face. Her gaze quickly swept back to his hips, and the erection she’d thought was big before grew larger before her eyes.
Oh, man. She was in trouble.
She refocused on what she was doing. Then gasped when she had the bandage completely free.
There were no stitches. No evidence of a gaping wound. Just a thin red scar that would, she suspected, eventually pale.
“Incredible,” she whispered.
He glanced down at his leg. “It looks good, no?”
“It looks great. You’re a medical miracle, you know that?” She ran her fingers over the scar and marveled at the tiny ridge the wound had left behind.
His breathing stopped.
Casey immediately pulled her hand back. “Oh. Did that hurt? I guess I just assumed that since it looked so good, it had healed complet—”
His fingers wrapped around her wrist, and he drew her hand back to his thigh, back to his wound and the skin she’d been stroking moments before. “No, meli. It doesn’t hurt. It feels good. Soothing. Don’t stop.”
She glanced from his leg to his face and back again.
She should stop. She was wading into uncharted waters. In her grandmother’s living room, for crying out loud. In a matter of minutes she’d be in over her head. She ran her fingertip back up his thigh, hovered on the edge of his boxer briefs and licked her lips.
“Yes,” he whispered. “More like that.”
Feeling bolder, she traced the hem of his boxers, slid her fingers along the downy hair on his inner thigh. The muscles in his throat constricted and his cock twitched beneath the black cotton so close to her hand.
Point of no return.
“Your fingers are like magikos,” he whispered. “You talk about how amazing my healing has been. Yet you seem to forget, without you, I wouldn’t be sitting here now.”
That was true, wasn’t it? She slid her hand up his thigh to the junction of his leg and hip, felt the corded power beneath as his words sank in. Gently, she pressed her thumb into his pressure point and was rewarded with a small gasp that told her he enjoyed what she was doing to him.
“Your touch is more pleasing than any healer from my world,” he rasped. “Each pass of your hand gives me strength.”
A smile pulled at her mouth. She knew exactly what kind of strength he meant, and if anyone else had pulled that line on her she would have scoffed. But with him? Right now? For reasons she wasn’t about to examine, instead of moving back, she shifted closer. And was rewarded as he reached out and brushed his knuckles across her abdomen.
Sparks shot to her center. Her pulse leaped, and she glanced up into his eyes.
Anything I want.
“You must be tired from all this…healing,” she whispered. “You’ll have to tell me what I can do to make it easier on you.”
One side of his mouth curled at the corner as he caught the playful tone of her voice. Arousal darkened his eyes. His hand grazed her arm, slid up to her cheek and gently caressed her skin. She leaned into his touch and held her own breath while his thumb ran over her bottom lip. “You really are a fantasy gynaíka.”
It crossed her mind to ask just what he meant, but before she could, he was pulling her face forward. And suddenly she forgot any questions she had and gave herself over to his touch.
His lips brushed hers, soft at first but with more ardor as the kiss deepened and his fingers tightened in her hair. On the second pass she opened to him without hesitation as his warm, wet tongue snaked into her mouth and stroked hers with long, seductive strokes.
He tasted like heaven. A hint of mint, of the dinner they’d shared, of sin served up on a golden platter. One of his large hands slid down her back and pulled her closer, until she was forced onto her knees, straddling his hips.
Her skin was on fire as he changed the angle of the kiss and his hands became more urgent. For a second she wondered if he was too weak for sex, then quickly dismissed the thought when he tugged her down and she settled on that monster erection she’d drooled over before. If he didn’t have the strength for it, she’d do all the work. No way she was stopping now.
Her hands took on a life of their own as she examined his muscular torso and kissed him back. Her fingers ran down his black shirt to the hem, then up under so she could feel his chiseled abs and the silky smooth skin of his belly. His cock twitched against her, and she pressed against it in answer, wanting nothing more but to feel him deep inside her.
He growled his approval. His kiss turned frantic. Possessive. His hands rushed to the buttons on her jeans. “I need to touch you,” he managed between breaths. “Need to feel if you’re wet.”
She was soaked, but she couldn’t take the time away from kissing him to tell him that. As soon as his fingers found the button at her waistband, something inside her snapped. An urgent need she’d never experienced before. Suddenly she was wiggling against her jeans, helping him in any way she could.
He wrenched the zipper free, pushed her back just enough so he could slide one hand inside. He bypassed her underwear and went straight to her skin, and she gasped at the first touch.
His finger found her slick knot, already hard and aroused. He rubbed over and around until she broke free of his mouth, threw her head back and moaned in ecstasy.
His lips slid over her throat. He bit down, and a lick of pain shot through her. Then he suckled the spot until she was moaning all over again. “Oh, meli. You are so wet.” His finger slid lower. Deeper. Inside. He groaned against her pulse. “And so tight.”
Casey couldn’t speak. Could barely move. Her release was coming and she was powerless to stop it. Gripping his shoulders with both hands, she tightened around his finger and let go.
But just as the wave was about to hit, his hand slid free and the pressure eased. He growled low in his throat and grasped the loose denim at her hips. “Need these off. Now.” He pushed her quickly to her feet and stripped her free of her jeans in one quick swoop.
She didn’t have time to protest, and should have been embarrassed, standing in front of him in only her sweater and low-rise boy shorts, but she wasn’t. As he lowered his head and kissed her again, she gave herself over to him and kissed him back while he pulled her close and that erection stabbed into her belly.
“I want to touch you,” she whispered.
He drew her bottom lip into his mouth in approval. While he took his fill, she reveled in his kiss, brushed her hand down his torso and slid it palm up into his boxer briefs. He groaned long and deep against her mouth as her fingers wrapped around his arousal. Velvet and steel filled her hand, raw power and the promise of mindless pleasure. She stroked up the shaft, circled the head, and marveled at the control she held over him as his big body shuddered against her.