Closing her eyes, she concentrated on the caress, the warmth, the softness. And as she kissed him back, it got easier to feel him—and she realized that somewhere along the way, she’d decided that this part of their relationship was gone forever.
It was the kind of conclusion that she hadn’t been aware of making.
It was the kind of conclusion that was wrong.
Daniel had always been a dominating lover, and he took control of things now, rolling her onto her back and shifting over onto her. Deeper now with the kissing, his tongue entering her, his hand stroking down the side of her rib cage as his leg moved up on top of both of her thighs.
“Daniel…” she sighed.
“Is this okay?”
“God, yes.”
Her body came alive again, just as it had back in the garage, her heart beating faster, her lungs burning, her core anticipating his touch, his penetration. That old familiar melting overtook her from the inside out, until her bones were flowing with the pulsing heat. When he slipped under her turtleneck and his hand rode up to her breast, she arched into him—
The top really had to go.
“Here, let me just—” With a wriggle, she disappeared the barrier on an up-and-over and threw it on the carpet. “Better.”
“Much,” he murmured.
Her bra was simple, white and cotton, and with her nipples peaked as they were, things were almost as visible as they would have been without the thing—and Daniel seemed captivated. Backing off a little, he teased her with his fingertips, the shaking in his hands much improved—and hey, if he needed occupational therapy like this? She’d be his PT any day.
The bra was a front clasp, and he paused as he went to the juncture between the cups. “Take this off for me?”
She knew why he asked, and instead of dwelling on the struggle he would have had, she turned it into a show. As he eased away, she freed the clasp, but left the cups in place. The reveal came as she arched her back, and the twin strokes as the bra’s halves slowly parted off to the sides made her bite her lip.
Daniel’s eyes burned as he looked at her, as if he were seeing her for the first time—and that expression of hunger in his face fed her on some level that had been starved for so long.
“You’re just beautiful.”
With that, he brushed a hand down her sternum and up one side. As he got to her nipple, he drew a circle around where she wanted his mouth, lingering, taking his time. Then he leaned in and kissed the underside of the breast he was stroking, nuzzling his way up to the tip that was aching for him. Everything he did was without hurry, as if they had all the time in the world—and she wondered whether he was giving her a chance to say no.
She wasn’t going to, even though she was nervous in ways she’d never been before. How could he be satisfied if he couldn’t orgasm himself? Wasn’t this selfish of her to—
“Hey,” he whispered as he stilled. “Where did you go?”
“I’m sorry.” As she heard the sadness in her voice, she tried to snap out of it. “I mean, I’m back now.”
His fingertips toyed with her nipple, giving it a tug. As a lance of pleasure shot through her core, she jacked back into the pillow with a hiss. When she recovered from the shock of the heat, she wanted to tell him it wasn’t fair.
“Talk to me,” he said.
“I just… I mean, what about you?”
“What about me.” Before she could formulate some kind of response, he shook his head. “I still feel everything. The softness of your skin.” He cupped her breast. “And where you’re tight for me.” He ran his thumb up and over her nipple. “And I get to watch you move under my touch.”
As he swept his hand down her body and around to the inside of her thigh, she opened her legs for him, her spine curling, her head moving back into the pillow again.
“Watching you feel pleasure,” he said as he lowered his mouth to her nipple, “is doing more for me than whatever Gus pumped into me down in the lab. Trust me. Just be with me here, Lydia, let me make you feel good—for the both of us.”
As his palm went higher, she gave herself into what he was doing to her, rolling her hips in anticipation. He refused to rush, though. He took his sweet time getting to her sex, and with every inch higher, her arousal intensified—when he finally made contact, she gasped, and that was when he kissed her mouth again. Sealing her lips with his own, he rubbed her back and forth, the heel of his palm taking the seam of her hiking pants and turning it into a torment she couldn’t get enough of.
“Please…”
“Please, what?” he said in a low voice, a voice she remembered.
“I need you.”
* * *
Daniel needed his woman, too. His limitations were real, but so was what he could still do. He could use his mouth. He could use his hands—and he did.
“Lift your hips.” When she did as he asked, he sat up. “Help me with the button, would you?”
There was no pause at all, and she attacked the fastening of her pants. And it was funny—or maybe liberating was more like it. He didn’t even give a shit that he needed help. Who the fuck cared. All he wanted was to keep the vibe going, and give her as many orgasms as she could take—
“Oh, yes,” he told her. “That’s it.”
He watched from above as she squirmed out of those hiking pants—as well as her underwear. The fact that she was impatient made him feel a male kind of satisfaction that had once been a familiar sensation, but nothing he’d sported since the spring. And then there was the way her breasts bobbed and swung, those nipples bouncing as she moved with none of her usual grace.
Which is not a bad thing at all, he thought as he licked his lips.
When she lay back down, he smiled and put his hands on her, stroking her from her tight breasts down her stomach to the bare cleft that was between her thighs. But he didn’t want to give her what they both needed—no, he wanted them to wait. Anticipation was a sweet bitch, wasn’t it.
Except he didn’t last as long as he’d hoped.
The sex was different without his cock being involved, but he was juiced and hungry for her release, sure as if it were his own. And it was the strangest fucking thing. As he pleasured her, slipping his fingers up and down her slick, hot core, he lived through her response, every moan and twist something that was transmitted into his own body—
She cried out his name when he penetrated her, and his eyes closed as his own head fell back. She was so tight, and God, he was panting, too.
He could remember what it was like to have his cock in her, the way the constriction had been so electric, how his whole body felt the fiery hold. Riding those memories, he found a rhythm to his stroking, and he wanted to kiss her, but he needed to see her more—and what a picture she was, naked on top of the bed, one knee out to the side, her breasts pumping up and down, her hands fisting the duvet that was wrinkled underneath her.
“Come for me,” he commanded. “Let me watch you come.”
Three fingers now, going in and out of her, every penetration bringing the heel of his palm against the top of her core, her hips working her against him—
Oops, annnnnd there went a pillow. And another.