“Did you let him stab you on purpose?” I demand, needing to make sure.
He tilts his hand back and forth. “Yes and no.”
“No playing with words, Tolyan.”
“I was thinking about it, but I got distracted, so he got me.”
“I don’t believe you. You would never get distracted during a fight!” The man is laser-focused, highly capable. I’m certain he used to be some kind of high-level spy, who can never reveal his past because it’s still classified.
“Normally, yes. It’s never happened until today.”
He’s speaking entirely too calmly, like what he did was logical and normal. It’s driving me crazy. “It’s because you were thinking about idiotic plans like getting stabbed on purpose!”
“No, it’s because I heard your breathing going unsteady and lost focus for a moment.”
Did that happen? I don’t remember, but then, I was too panicked to remember much of the fight clearly.
“I’ve never done that with anybody before,” he adds.
My mouth opens, but no sound comes out. I’m still processing what he just said, and my mind’s too jumbled to say something.
“I’ve never worried about anybody’s safety when I fight,” he says.
Finally, I bury my face in my hands. I should’ve known when he showed me the tower of C-4 cream of corn in his pantry. The man isn’t normal. He is certifiable.
But…
I’ve never worried about anybody’s safety when I fight.
I’ve never felt this way about anybody before, either. And I’ve never been around someone who doesn’t mind risking his life to show how much he cares. Initially, Tolyan just wanted me to lure Roy in, but his feelings changed during the time we stayed together. He could’ve left me with the trio, but didn’t. Nobody bleeds for bait, especially after he got the prey he wanted.
After a moment, I raise my head. Tolyan’s holding out a white Kleenex right in my face.
I pluck it from his hand. “I’m not crying.”
“Consider it backup.”
“Next time you pull something this stupid, I’m going to strangle you.”
“It was…an elegant solution. You’re too nice to abandon a man who got injured rescuing you.”
Why must he be so extreme? “There’s a better and easier way.”
He raises his eyebrow expectantly.
“You could’ve simply said, ‘I love you.’”
He frowns. “And you would’ve believed me?”
“I would have.” Sort of. I don’t know. Hard to say because I was pretty mad at him… “After a while.” I should give him honesty as well.
He grunts. “Would have taken too long. My way is more efficient.”
Man. He’s not going to admit I’m right. He’s too stubborn and set in his own ways. And since he’s refusing to take the prescribed medicine, the pain must be muddying his thought process. “You should just focus on getting better.”
“I’ll feel much better, probably immediately, if…”
“Yes? I’m listening.”
“…we have sex right now.”
I gasp, then laugh. “And rip the stitches? I don’t think so.”
“Just be gentle. I won’t mind.” He pulls me toward his lap.
“No!” I wriggle to get off him. “You’re going to mess up the stitches!”
“If you struggle, they’ll really rip.”
I stay still.
He carries me to his bedroom, then lays me on the bed. He places his hands on either side of my face, then looks down at me, his eyes tender.
My heart gallops. I’ve missed being with him so much. And I’m worried about his injury, annoyed at his cavalier attitude toward it and buzzing with anticipation that he’s going to do something that’s going to change my life forever.
He brushes the tip of his nose against mine, the gesture loving and playful. “I love you, little fawn.”
A thick lump clogs my throat. The skin around my eyes grows hot with springing tears.
My crazy knight in shining armor, my high-handed angel of retribution and justice, my stubborn lover. He isn’t just an unrotten lemon from the universe. He’s the other half of my soul.
A lump sticks in my throat, and I can’t speak. So I cradle his gorgeous face between my hands, then bring him down for a kiss. We kiss like it’s the first time and the last time. Regardless of what Tolyan claims, I can’t ever erase the memory of him getting injured, fighting for me. Our tongues tangle, and I unbutton his shirt then run my hands all over his torso. His flesh is taut against my palms. It reminds me we’re both alive.
Very carefully, I wrap my legs around his waist. My fingertips brush the bandage on his side, and I realize intercourse is out of the question, no matter what he said earlier.
I slowly push him on his uninjured side, then have him roll until he’s lying on his back, and I’m positioned over him, my thighs on each side of his hips. His cock is already hard and straining against his pants. Still devouring his mouth, I undo his belt and pants, then glide his clothes, including his underwear, down to his knees. His dick springs forward, thick and greedy, its tip already glistening.
My mouth waters at the sight of his need. His blatant desire sends heat through my body. I tingle all the way to my toes.
Under my gaze, his cock jerks, like it can’t wait anymore. I lick my mouth. I can’t either.
I wrap my lips around the plum-shaped head. It’s so hot against the tender, sensitive skin inside my mouth. I pull him in deeper, flicking my tongue over the thick shaft.
I move my head up and down. He reaches over and pushes my hair out of his view. The sight must be a huge turn-on because a low, rough groan vibrates through his chest. His excitement fuels my desire. I grip the base of his cock, since he’s too big to fit into my mouth, and pump my hand to the rhythm I set with my lips.
Impossibly, his cock grows even harder and larger. More slickness fills my mouth, salty and all Tolyan. The flesh between my legs dampens. Having him go crazy with lust makes me feel powerful. Sexy. And incredibly turned on.
His grip in my hair tightens, but not enough to hurt. I can see he’s fighting for control, but he’s losing. He thrusts shallowly forward, pushing his dick deeper into my mouth.
Yes, yes, yes! I moan my approval around his shaft.
He throws his head back, hot liquid filling my mouth as a climax twists through his gorgeous body. I suck him all in greedily, wanting to draw out the last drop of his orgasm.
When I finally let go of him, my breath is shallow and fast. I lick my tender lips, and he’s gazing at me like he’s still starved.
“Come here,” he orders.
I shake my head. “Uh-uh. You’re going to rest now and recover, like a good patient.”
His eyes narrow into slits. “There’s no way we’re ending like this.”
“Your stitches—”
“They’ll be fine, if you’ll just take off your panties and sit on my face.”
I gasp at the raw desire in his voice, the dirty image his words create. “I can’t do that,” I protest feebly. It’s one thing when he goes down on me, but something else for me to “sit” on his face. Isn’t it?