Semper Mine (Sons of War #1)(33)

“I can’t do this,” he whispers at last, his lips moving against my ear.

“Can’t do what?” I tug at my arms.

He holds them in place, not moving.

“Fuck you.”

A thrill spirals through me at his blunt words. Our bodies are pressed together, complete intimacy prevented by the thin fabric of his sweatpants. His arousal presses against my tender nether lips. So close …

“I shouldn’t have done that,” he adds. “Shouldn’t have kissed you.”

My body burns for him, my blood humming. My senses are scattered to the four winds, and I breathe in his scent, letting it intoxicate me. I’m an emotional, sensual person, and the sensations of his body – the combination of soft skin and hard muscle, of his rough passion and cool control – is killing me. I need him.

I’ve never needed anyone.

There’s a small voice warning me that Captain Mathis isn’t the kind of person who does a one night stand, and I’m not looking for a relationship with the man who killed my brother. It’s rare when I feel overwhelmed by someone the way I do him. I’m a split second from begging him, and I never beg. My will power is pretty much Swiss cheese.

Maybe it’s a good thing he’s backing out. God knows I won’t. I’m a slave to my emotions, no matter what the consequences.

We lay together quietly, both so beyond turned on, it’s insane that we aren’t going through with it. Maybe that’s why he’s holding my wrists, because he knows I don’t have an ounce of restraint. The amount of passion in his kiss tells me sleeping with him will be the best night of my life. He’s too observant not to be an attentive lover, too proud not to be the best a woman’s ever had, too controlled and patient not to give me as much as I can take before he gets off.

This is killing me! I try to rein in my hormones and focus on something other than f*cking Sawyer Mathis. Recalling the nightmares that got us to this point helps cool my ardor some.

“I just wanted to help you,” I whisper. “Petr had the night terrors every night for a few weeks. I was the only one to help him. I used to crawl into bed with him the way my mom did me when I had nightmares.”

He’s listening quietly, his grip on my wrists secure while his body remains atop mine. If dealing with Captain Mathis baffled me before, I’m not sure what to think now.

I want him, and I know he wants me. He’s saying no, but his body is indicating the opposite. His erection is long and thick, and it shows no signs of abating as the minutes pass. I don’t know how long I’ve been lying beneath him.

“You did help me,” he says finally. “Thank you.”

“Whatever it takes. If you need me …” I clear my throat. “I didn’t quite mean it that way, unless …” Shit. I totally meant it that way.

“I have too much respect for you and your brothers, Katya,” he replies. “Though I’m glad to see I was right. There’s a very sweet side to you.”

“It’s hard to hate you when I know you’re broken like Petr,” I say. Minutes before, he was in my arms, shaking from the power of nightmares.

His breath hitches, as if he’s surprised. I’m not sure why. He is human. He has to know he’s got issues.

“I didn’t know you were hurting, too,” I continue. “If I can help you, ask me now. I’m going to go back to hating you in the morning.” I mean it as a joke to lighten up the tension, but it’s kind of true. Now that I’ve sampled what he’s got, I feel the need to run far, far away, because a man like this isn’t the kind of person you walk away from.

“That’s probably a good idea,” he agrees with a husky chuckle that makes me shiver. “It’s easier when you’re pissed at me.”

Easier? I’m not sure what he’s saying. A few times, we’ve come close to something only to backpedal. The sense that this … thing between us is more than opportunistic lust returns. I assumed the attraction was one way, given how terse he normally is around me.

He releases one of my wrists and brushes the back of his fingers against one cheek. I’m embarrassed by my tears and wipe them away quickly.

“You’re hurting, aren’t you? I upset you?” he whispers, his tone gentle.

“I haven’t stopped since you brought Mikael back in a coffin,” I reply hoarsely.

“You are terrible at taking care of yourself, even if you are great at helping others.”

I have no comeback for the too accurate observation.

“You can help me. Let me hold you.”

“Shouldn’t I be holding you?” I ask, confused.

“I know I’ve caused you so much pain. I live with that reality daily. It will help me to bring you a little comfort, Katya.”

More tears squeeze from my eyes at his tender words, and my throat grows too tight to speak. I never thought I’d hear such a sentiment from a man like him. Or anyone, for that matter.

“Okay.” My response is barely audible.

He eases off me and nudges me to roll onto my side, my back towards him. I do so, unmoving as he wraps one arm beneath my neck and the other around my midsection. One of his legs drapes over mine, and he pulls me into his body. His erection is hard against my backside, and I shift against him.