He touches my bottom lip with his pointer finger, holding me tightly. My belly feels animated with energy. Fuck—this is not turning me on. It can’t be.
He traces a finger around my lips. “Open.”
I stare into his amber gaze. His dark curls are caked with mud. It’s a fabulous look on him. Of course, everything’s a fabulous look on Kiro. He waits patiently, fingers at my lips. He’s willing to wait. He knows he’s in charge here.
I keep my lips zipped, heart pounding. It’s not that I don’t want to let his fingers invade me. It’s not that I don’t want him.
I want him too much. He’s too much—he’s too much man, too sexy. I’m too grateful. He’s too much in charge here. The balance of power is way too skewed.
He brings his face to my cheek. I stiffen. Will he bite me again? He can do anything he wants to me out here.
But instead, he presses his lips to my cheek. He kisses me softly. I didn’t even think he knew how to do that—to kiss not in a bruising, wild-man way.
His voice feathers my ear with heat. “I know when you’re aroused. I hear it in the tone of your voice. I see it in the way your gaze changes, as if you see everything and nothing. The taste of your skin. And your scent…”
I let out a shuddery breath.
He presses his fingers along my lips, asking for entry. “Take me, Nurse Ann.”
It’s the need in his voice that gets me. The need tells me he’s a little out of control, too. I open.
He pushes his fingers in. “Suck.”
I comply. His finger tastes mostly of…some spice. Thyme, I think. Maybe it grows wild. Maybe that’s what he used to season the fish. For me. He’d eat it raw, of course. And not in that sushi way.
I feel controlled, invaded. Wildly turned on.
“Take two.” He pushes in two, sliding them in, invading my mouth, exploring it, breath speeding. Then he puts in three. It’s a dress rehearsal to sucking his cock—we both know it.
I imagine him holding me down and shoving his thick, dusky cock into my mouth, taking his pleasure. And I would get a hand free and squeeze him at the root and make it feel really good. Has anybody ever sucked him really nicely and made him feel good like that?
Panting, he pulls out his fingers and slides them down my neck, leaving a cool, wet trail.
He pulls the sleeping bag sides from my grasp, exposing my naked body to the cold air.
“Hey!”
He ignores my protest and explores my body tenderly, pausing at my right breast. He traces a finger around the bottom of it, lifting it slightly as he goes.
I’m quivering, a naked captive on a half shell, pulse banging like a jackhammer. His fingers are magic on me. He plays me like a strange instrument, but instead of sound, he’s creating wild electricity.
The feeling is so intense, my skin feels tight. I think I can’t take any more of him touching me, but I don’t want him to stop.
“I smell your arousal already.” He hooks his feet inside my ankles, nudging my legs apart, exposing my bare sex to the cool late-afternoon air.
My heart pounds even harder.
One hand has reached my belly. “You like when the air is on your pussy. I remember from the store. You came alive when I held you open. Do you remember?”
“Um…”
“You see that flat limestone slab over there?” he asks, touching my nipple worshipfully, reverently. The way he touches me isn’t just about turning me on, though it’s definitely turning me on. It’s as if he needs to be touching me, sliding his hand over me, skin to skin.
“I didn’t know you’d be so soft here,” he says. “Your breasts are the softest things I’ve ever touched. And right here…” He scissors two fingers over a nipple, squeezing—hard.
I gasp at the sting of it, and he stops.
I’m panting.