CARESSED BY ICE

“Now who’s the tease?” He ran his thumb along the underside of one breast.

Her hand clenched on his forearm. Kissing the side of her neck once more, he repeated the stroking caress but went higher. Again. Higher. He could feel her holding her breath as he lingered just below her nipple.

“Judd, please.”

He flicked his finger across the tightly furled bud. She cried out and asked for more. He didn’t give it to her. Instead he retreated to draw a slow circle low on her navel.

“I’m going to kill you.”

He chuckled and it was a sound he’d never before heard come from his own throat. “Patience is a virtue.”

She seemed about to reply but then he began retracing his prior journey, his goal her neglected breast. She went quiet.

Anticipation lingered in the air and he was so sensitive to its touch he could almost taste it. Her skin flushed with heat, her breathing jagged. And when he touched her breast, the rhythm of her heart turned into a staccato drumbeat. This time, he didn’t flick her nipple but closed his hand over the firm, hot rise of her flesh. “Your breasts make me want to bite.”

She arched into his hold, her hand squeezing his arm. “Do it.” A dare. An invitation.

“Not yet.” That would accelerate something he was determined to draw out forever. “I want to savor my first bite.”

Her claws nicked his skin. “No more playing.”

He bit her neck in response, making her tremble and withdraw her claws. “So impatient.” Not giving her any warning, he slipped his hand down and under the waistband of her panties again. Spearing through her curls, he pressed his thumb on her clitoris at the same time as he used his fingers to tease the damp entrance to her body.

She gave a startled cry and then her body went taut. Liquid heat covered his fingers, scenting the air with a sharp wildness. He continued to stroke her as she shuddered several times before her body went soft and sated. Even then he didn’t stop, indulging his need to pet her with long, easy movements as she lay quiescent.

When she finally attempted to turn, he withdrew his thigh and let her, but kept his fingers where they were. She nuzzled at his throat, ran her fingers over his chest. It was no longer an odd feeling for him to be touched by her, but the sexual context changed the tone of the caresses, gave them a different weight. He liked the result.

“Where did you learn all this?” she murmured. “You’re a virgin.”

He almost halted. “I suppose you’re right, technically speaking.” Sex had effectively been wiped out by Silence. Oh, his race had continued practicing it for the sake of procreation—until technology had made that unnecessary—but it had become a mechanical, passionless act. In the present time, normal Psy considered sex an impractical and worthless “animal” exercise. His brethren didn’t value the beauty of bonding with another being on such an intimate level.

Brenna was kissing a line across his chest. “Technically speaking?”

“I’m very good at research—some might say I was obsessed with this particular topic.” He slid his fingers up and out to rest his hand on her abdomen once again.

She ran her teeth over his skin. “Exactly what kind of research did you do?”

“An Arrow never divulges his sources.” Using the hand under her head to tangle in her hair, he kept her in place as he claimed a deep kiss. She responded with pleasure but below that was a strange tension that he knew she probably wasn’t aware of.

Scars from the abduction.

They’d take time to heal. He didn’t allow himself to think ahead to the moment when he’d enter her body. That would be the most difficult part, connected so profoundly were the sensations with the nightmare. “Do you want to be on top?” he asked against her mouth, recalling her lack of fear when she’d straddled him in the armchair.

“Will that interfere with your master plan?” She smiled and he felt rather than saw it. Her hand began to slide south.

He pushed it back up. “There is a degree of flexibility built into the plan. But you don’t get to touch me yet.”

A sensual feminine laugh. “I’m okay, baby.” Her hands gripped the sides of his waist. “I’ll let you know when I need something other than what you’re doing.”

So she was aware of her anxiety, unsurprising really, given her will. “Don’t scratch too hard.”

Another laugh. “I’m not the dangerous one in this bed. You’re driving me crazy, you know that.”

“Good. My research tells me that that is my job as your lover. I hear predatory changeling women are tough critics.”

“Believe me, you have nothing to worry about.” She licked at the skin of his neck.