Enslaved: Eternal Guardians series

“Sorry,” she said in a pained voice. “I just need to get the blood off to see how it’s… Oh.”

 

 

His eyes fluttered open. She was staring at his stomach. And oh, hell, her breasts hovered right over his cock, close enough to touch. As she wiped his skin, each brush of her fingers sent shards of desire swelling in his groin.

 

“This is nearly healed,” she said in surprise.

 

Like he cared about the wounds right now. Like he cared about anything but her skin on his, her mouth, her tongue…any part of her body she wanted to rub against his. He shifted his legs wider to make more room for her. Wished like hell she’d stop talking and fucking touch him again. “Heal fast.”

 

The words came out slurred, but when she lifted her gaze to his, she either didn’t notice or didn’t care. “I see that. I’m glad. I was afraid…” Emotion passed over her face, but he couldn’t tell what she was thinking. Couldn’t make much sense of anything but his own burning need. Then she shook her head, looked back down at his stomach, and resumed wiping away the blood. “How do you feel?”

 

“Hot.” He eyed her breasts. Noticed for the first time that her T-shirt was covered in dried blood and that streaks of something green marred the skin of her hands. “And dirty.”

 

So dirty. Oh, man. Suddenly all he could think about was getting nasty dirty with her, right here on the bathroom floor.

 

“I brought extra clothes.” She left the washrag on his stomach, pushed to her feet, and was gone before he could stop her. Disappointment flowed, but she returned seconds later. And as she stood in the dim light of the doorway, he realized she was holding a backpack. The backpack he’d picked up at that army surplus store.

 

She opened the flap, pulled out new clothes for both of them, set them on the counter. Then she knelt in front of him all over again and reached for the button of his pants. “Here, let me help you get these off.”

 

Holy…hell. She wanted to take off his pants. Something way in the back of his mind warned he should stop her, but he was too far gone to care. All he could think about was her touch. About how it would feel. About where it would lead.

 

Please let it lead somewhere.

 

His dick throbbed in anticipation. She freed the button. He lifted his hips as she tugged to pull off the stained cotton. Didn’t even try to stop his boxers from sliding right down with the pants. When she realized she’d stripped him completely naked, her eyes grew wide and a small gasp escaped her lips.

 

Her hands froze. But he was suddenly wide awake, even with a spinning head. He toed off his boots, pushed his pants the rest of the way down his legs, and kicked them off. And when she only continued to stare, his erection swelled, growing harder and hotter under her watchful eyes.

 

He sat up. His cock bobbed against his belly as he reached for her shirt and tugged it up and over her head. She didn’t stop him, seemed to be in shock, and he was glad, because he wasn’t sure he could call things quits right now, even if she wanted him to.

 

He groaned when her naked breasts came into view. No bra. Nothing but heavenly, perfect skin. Her nipples hardened as he took her in. Her stomach tightened in the dim light. He flipped on the water in the sink at his side, ran the washcloth under the stream, then brought it dripping back to her chest.

 

She drew in another gasp as he ran it all over her breasts, down her belly, then back up again, washing away every last bit of that battle. He cupped her left breast with his free hand, ran his wet thumb over her nipple, pinched it gently, and watched it harden into a tight little nub.

 

“Gryphon,” she whispered.

 

In his foggy head he couldn’t tell if the word was a warning or a plea. But he felt the shiver that ran down her spine. And the way it pushed her a fraction of an inch closer.

 

He took that as his cue. Dropped the washrag on the floor. Slid his wet hand around the nape of her neck and pulled her tight to him as he closed his mouth over hers.

 

She opened without hesitation, pressed her hands against his bare chest, moaned as his tongue slid into her mouth and he tasted her all over again. Heat and life pulsed through his veins as his erection pressed against her bare belly. As her arms slid around his neck and her breasts brushed his chest. As she tangled her tongue with his and kissed him back with all the urgency and hunger he was showering on her.

 

Ah, gods. This was what he wanted. More of her heat. More of her skin. More of this feeling in the center of his chest, telling him he was alive. But she wasn’t close enough. He needed to get inside her. Needed to feel her. It was all he could think about. All he could focus on. He tried to drag her up onto his lap, but her knee knocked into the counter and she pulled back from his mouth, cringing at the pain.