“I’ll get that. Need your eyes on the ceiling, honey.” Another soft request.
She obeyed, eyes on the white plaster ceiling overhead as she listened to him come to her, moving at an uneven pace up the bed. Then her vision was filled with his gorgeous face. Dark hair falling over his forehead, intense blue eyes that had witnessed the horrors of war. She brushed her palm along his beard, almost filled in, and ran her finger over his bottom lip.
“You’re so handsome it hurts.” She whispered her confession. It earned her a grin and a kiss that curled her toes.
“Trust me, Sable. This won’t hurt a bit.” His fingers worked the buttons of her blouse as he continued kissing her. Together they helped her out of her shirt and she tossed it to the floor as he slid her bra from her arms.
His lips hit her breasts and her back arched as intense pleasure rocked her. He moved his fingers between her legs again and her eyes sank shut, the orange from the daylight bright on the screens of her closed lids. His mouth kissed a trail over her ribs and down to her belly button, closer and closer to his exploring fingers.
Then his tongue replaced them and she nearly shot off the bed.
Hot.
Wet.
Each lick was a firm stroke applying pressure to her most sensitive part. She raised her head to steal a peek and he lifted her leg and rested her thigh on his shoulder, never pausing his assault. He lay flat on his belly, propped up on his other arm, shifting every so often to accommodate her body and his.
Waves of pleasure rolled over her as he continued, his hand wrapped tightly around her thigh as she bucked against his face. He didn’t slow when she cried out, but instead sped up, intent on getting her up and over. Her release built to a crescendo and finally on a shout—his name. Her orgasm found her, slamming into her as her inner muscles tapped out an intoxicating rhythm.
Her body trembled from the aftershocks, and she closed her legs against his persistent mouth, unable to take any more of his mind-numbing ministrations. She rolled to one side, pressing her knees together, but Eli parted her legs and pushed her to her back again. He army-crawled up her body, pressing kisses here and there as he did.
He pushed up on one arm and reached for the nightstand, coming up short. He swore under his breath as he shifted and tried again.
“What do you need?” she asked.
“Condom,” he growled.
“Let me.” She kissed him sweetly, then rolled over to open the drawer to fish out a packet. “Next time we’ll slide one under the pillow.”
Eli reached for it, but she swatted his hand away.
“Haven’t you learned yet, soldier,” she asked as she pushed his chest, “that I like to be on top?”
***
This was a lot fucking harder than he’d expected. Being between her legs, trying to navigate in bed and keep things hot. He’d planned on finishing her off, snagging a condom, and sliding in before she stopped pulsing. Then, with her legs wrapped around his ass, he’d slam them both home to the satisfying sounds of slapping flesh and keening moans.
Shit.
He’d thought relearning to walk and shower had been difficult.
The snag had delivered a blow to his ego and was starting to affect the part of him that should be a hell of a lot harder right now.
Fucking brain.
Stupidfucking brain.
While his brain did a great service controlling the rest of his body, it was doing a horrible job of motor function where he needed it most. He pinched the bridge of his nose and grimaced when a hand rested on his chest.
“Eli.” The silken, sensual voice preceded a firm grip on his cock. One stroke had blood rushing there anew, hardening him instantly. One more stroke, and his brain was no longer reeling. His cock went as rigid as rebar in her fist.
Isa, her breasts swaying, hair swinging, hovered over him as a smile parted her sensuous mouth. Her eyes wandered down to what her hand was doing and he grasped a handful of blankets and threw it over his stump in a rush.
She’d already seen it, but better late than never.
Her eyes went to the blankets where his clenched fist held on, her hand still turning his cock into a seven-and-a-half-inch steel rod. She jerked the sheet and exposed his leg and his temper flared.
“Dammit, Sable.”