Total pages in book: 109
Estimated words: 103719 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 519(@200wpm)___ 415(@250wpm)___ 346(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 103719 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 519(@200wpm)___ 415(@250wpm)___ 346(@300wpm)
“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.
Her body was contorting now, jacking to the side, her knees coming up, her legs locking in against him, her hands punching down and holding him in place—
Lydia came hard, the contractions so tight he could feel them, and oh, shit, it was good, the tension releasing in his own body, a shimmering going through him as if he’d somehow absorbed part of the orgasm.
When she eased up and flopped onto her back, he kept his hand right where it was and smiled a big ol’ yeah-I-did-that-to-my-woman grin.
Sure as if he’d never pleasured her so well before.
Lifting her heavy lids, Lydia looked up at him… and there it was. That love shining in her eyes, the thing he hadn’t seen for so long.
“You’re the best medicine I have,” he said as he leaned forward and tilted her chin up.
Putting his mouth against hers, he stroked her hair back: Thanks to the writhing, the ponytail she’d put it in was no longer up to its job, all kinds of frizz surrounding her.
“Also, just so you know,” he informed her, “I could do this for hours.”
“Really?”
“Oh, yeah.” He caressed her sex some more and was really into the sound she made. “Really.”
“Daniel—” she gasped.
Leaning back down to her breasts, he murmured, “Once more with feeling…”
SEVENTEEN
A GOOD FIFTY MILES to the west, in the symphath Colony, Blade was fifty feet beneath the ground and fully armed under his blood-red robe. His private quarters were in the least desirable part of the rabbit warren of subterranean chambers, and he did that on purpose. No one bothered him here.
Secrecy was necessary—and not just the kind that came with people not entering your private space. Mental secrecy was critical to him. His kind had no hesitation to violate a person’s mind, either because you had information or emotions up there they wanted or needed—or because they were bored and inclined to fuck with you.
If he was anywhere else in the Colony, his thoughts were locked down, his grid protected—and even here, he was careful not to become complacent.
Throwing part of the draping over his shoulder, he rechecked his hip holster. Two guns, backup ammo, everything cleaned with an herb wash that hid any scents of metal, lead, blue oil. Not that this was all of his armaments. He had hidden a pack of explosives just off the Colony’s territory, and he would pick that up on his way.
He knew better than to bring C-4 anywhere near here.
Resettling the robing, he glanced around. His pallet was across the way on the tiled floor. Then he had his locked wardrobe, two trunks that were secured with screws that penetrated into the bedrock five feet down, and a bank of cabinets.