“Aye.” It was a husky growl.
Beth bit her lip, struggling with her unusual shyness, but then closed her eyes and tilted her head back. Trying to pretend it was him touching her, she began to squeeze and knead her own breasts and then tweaked the tightening nipples. Much to her relief, Beth heard Scotty’s breathing grow heavier and more labored, and thought it might be working.
Clearing her throat, she whispered, “I remember in the garage, waking up that first time to find you leaning over me. You were suckling my breast and your hand was . . .” She broke off and moved one hand down beneath the hospital gown to touch herself, sliding her fingers gently across the moist folds.
Beth opened her eyes just enough to peek out from under her eyelids and saw Scotty lick his lips as he stared at where her hand had disappeared. She continued to touch herself for a moment, and then shifted her wrist slightly, sending the soft material of the hospital gown down her legs to lie on the bed, letting him see what she was doing.
“Do you remember?” she asked, her own voice gone husky.
“Aye,” he breathed, not taking his eyes away from her hand. “Spread yer legs more.”
Beth smiled with relief at the demand. She had him. At least, she thought she did. She wasn’t sure. She wasn’t feeling any of the shared excitement she’d experienced when they’d made love, just her own milder excitement at having him watch her pleasure herself.
“Spread yer legs more,” Scotty repeated.
Beth smiled and obeyed, easing her knees open so he could better see what she was doing. The action brought her left knee into contact with his hip just above the jeans she’d tugged down, and Beth was suddenly assaulted by a confusing wave of sensation. Excitement and pain roared into her brain as one, but the pain was the overriding, overwhelming sensation and she sucked in a draft of air as it punched her in the head.
Scotty closed his eyes as Beth’s knee brushed his skin and a shaft of pleasure slipped through his body, battling with the pain for attention. It wasn’t until he opened his eyes again that he noticed that Beth had stiffened and stilled, her face twisting with pain.
“Beth?” he said with concern.
She breathed out slowly through her nose, and then opened her eyes, her gaze landing on his lap. When her eyes widened slightly, Scotty glanced down himself to see that the pleasure that had briefly shot through him had managed to make him semi-erect. Just enough for his penis to push its way out of the top of his open jeans.
He really should have put on boxers or something, Scotty thought, and then sucked in a startled breath when Beth leaned forward and exhaled, her breath brushing lightly over the sensitive tip. His cock didn’t suddenly stand up and do the samba, but it did grow a little firmer as another shaft of pleasure slithered through the pain that had been embracing him. It was like a sliver of light in the darkness, and rather than protest this time, Scotty stilled and closed his eyes, focusing all his attention on that one beam of light.
“May I?” Beth asked, and Scotty’s eyes popped open at the question to see that her hand was hovering over him, ready to touch him, and despite his earlier protest, he was actually disappointed she’d asked. Because now he had to say aye or nay, and the truth was he wanted her to touch him. He hadn’t just been fighting her. He was fighting himself. He wanted her to do it. Not that he’d started out in any kind of mood for sex, and truthfully, he wasn’t even quite there yet, though he was certainly interested, but the idea of escaping the pain he was in through the blessed sleep that followed life mate sex was a very attractive one.
However, Scotty could hear Magnus’s voice in his head telling him to leave her alone if he couldn’t claim her. Otherwise he would be using her . . . like all the other men in her life.
Scotty battled with his conscience briefly, but with every moment the pain those brief shots of pleasure had displaced returned, and he growled, “Aye.”
Beth eased his jeans further open, and then took him in hand. Scotty leaned his head back with a sigh of relief as his body responded, the pleasure once again slipping through and chasing away the pain somewhat.
She gave him only two gentle strokes before he heard her moan. The sound made him open his eyes to look down at her. Beth’s body was as rigid as stone, her face twisted in agony as she worked.
For a moment, Scotty was confused, and then it occurred to him that during life mate sex, the mates shared their pleasure. It was what made it so overwhelming. He now suspected whatever channel it was that opened up between the couple to allow that must also allow other sensations they were experiencing to be shared. Pain, for instance. Beth was feeling his pain, and while the pleasure she was giving him was helping to mitigate his pain, it was still pretty strong, and she was being hit with it.
Scotty half rose up then, reaching for her, determined to make her stop. But she caught his hands gently with her own, and determinedly closed her mouth over his semi-erect member. The action made him freeze, his head going back as a much stronger, sharper shaft of pleasure raced through him, replacing a good portion of his pain. It was as if his brain couldn’t handle the conflicting messages being sent to it, and was choosing the pleasure.
Thank God, Scotty thought as her mouth continued to slide firmly up and down, driving away the pain that had been attacking him. When the last of it had gone and he was experiencing only pleasure, Scotty opened his eyes and watched her work. She no longer seemed to be experiencing pain either, he noted, and was touched that she would have borne it for him. Most women would have moved as far away from him as they could to avoid that kind of agony, he was sure. Instead, she’d taken it to ease his burden.
Scotty slid the mangled fingers of one hand across the short hairs of her scalp, surprised to find them as soft as a puppy’s fur. And then he reached for her breast with his other hand and began to fondle her as she worked, gratified to find the pleasure between them increase. But finally, he closed his eyes and just enjoyed what she was doing as they both climbed toward that darkness that would take him away from the pain without stopping his healing.
“You cannot go,” Magnus said firmly. “You are to stay here until we sort out who is trying to kill you.”
“But I need clothes,” Beth protested, glancing between Magnus and Mortimer determinedly.
“There are clothes here in the stockroom,” Mortimer pointed out. “We keep them here for just such an occasion.”
“I want my clothes,” she argued. “And my toothbrush, and my—”