DONOVAN (Gray Wolf Security, #1)(133)

“Insulin pump,” he said, flicking his finger against the first item. “Glucose transmitter,” he said, touching the other.

I was at a loss for words. I don’t know where I was going, but I got up and headed toward the door. He grabbed me just as my hand touched the knob, and spun me around.

“Does it make me weak in your eyes?”

“What?” I was startled. I didn’t know what to say.

“Does it make me weak? Less of a man?”

“I… No, it doesn’t. But you should have told me.”

“Why?”

I started to shake my head, but he ran his hand over my throat and grabbed my jaw, forcing my head still.

“Some women think it’s a weakness. An infirmity. Like I’m not really a man because I have a chronic illness that can knock me flat on my ass at any moment.” He ran his thumb over my bottom lip. “Do you think that?”

I thought about a man I’d served with. I’d visited him in the VA hospital a few months after I left the Army. He’d been injured when a grenade went off too close to him as he walked his patrol one night. Shrapnel damaged his leg so badly that it had to be amputated. His wife hadn’t been to the hospital to see him because he couldn’t stand the idea that she might look at him differently.

“You don’t need a leg to be a man.”

I’d meant it. And I meant it when I touched the side of Lucien’s face and said, “If you think this makes you less of a man, then your definition of masculinity and mine are two very different things.”

He stared at me for a long moment, like he couldn’t wrap his mind around what I’d just said. And then his mouth was on mine, and I slid my arms around his neck, buried my fingers in his hair, and pulled him tight against me.

We kissed roughly, lips mashing and teeth getting in the way. His hands moved low over my hips, and he lifted me, pulling up against the smooth wood of the door until we were face to face. I wrapped my legs around his waist, clinging to him as the material of my dress betrayed me by sliding up over my thighs, exposing my upper thighs to his touch. And touch he did, running his hands over the silky material of my new panties, his fingertips brushing places they never should have known.

I didn’t know much about Lucien. I didn’t know anything about this girlfriend who’d apparently broken his heart. I didn’t know why he hadn’t brought any other women home in the past few years. I didn’t know what his favorite color was, if he liked music, if he watched movies late at night when he couldn’t sleep. But I knew he was a damn good kisser and he was doing a service to humanity in his work. And I knew he was as masculine as any man I’d served with in the military.

I knew that I shouldn’t want this. I shouldn’t want his touch. But I also knew that his touch did things to my body that made me forget that I shouldn’t want this.

He turned and carried me to the bed, controlling the fall so that he didn’t land too roughly on top of me. But the weight of his body was reassuring, just the same. I slid my hands under his shirt, drawing it up over the heavy muscles I could feel rippling just under the skin as he tugged at my dress, trying to get it out of his way. His shirt disappeared as he broke out kiss and sat up a little, exposing once again those washboard abs that made my fingers itch to touch. And his chest… Those pecs were as well defined as any I’d seen at boot camp. I sat up too, lifted my arms so he could pull my dress over my head. His eyes moved over my new bra, and I was actually happy I’d spent the money, happy that his eyes looked like those of a hungry animal who’d just set his sights on the perfect prey.

He pressed his lips to my throat, and I rolled my head back, gave him access to everything he wanted. My nipples strained, needing his touch. He tugged at the clasp between my heaving breasts, tugged until it finally came free and the cups loosened. And then his hand was sliding underneath, the heat of his touch, the pressure on my nipple, drawing a moan from the depths of my throat. And then his mouth… Oh, my God! If I thought he knew what to do with a simple kiss… He was quite the expert with that tongue in other places, too.

I lay back against the pillows again, my fingers buried in his hair as he took his time nibbling and tasting and… There were no words for the things he was doing to me. I forgot where I was. I forgot why I was there. I just wanted his touch, wanted to feel him everywhere.

He made his way slowly down my body, every nerve in my body coming alive as he tugged at my panties and pulled them slowly down the length of my legs. I don’t know what made my head spin more, the feel of his fingers caressing my body gently, or the look in his eye as he took in every inch of my naked flesh.

I’d never felt adored. I’d heard that phrase before, seen it in erotic stories that were my secret shame. But I’d never understood it until tonight, until I saw it in his eyes. The way he looked at me, the way his eyes caressed me more gently than his hands… I knew what it meant. And I knew I would never forget the way it felt.

And then he blew me away again as he lifted a foot to his mouth, kissing the very bottom before moving over my ankle, along my calf, taking his time behind my knee, working his way slowly up the length of me. I knew where he was headed, knew what he planned for me. My clit stood on end, waiting for the moment he would finally pay attention to it, something deep in my belly aching for the moment he would turn his attention to that, too. My body had never known such pleasure before, but it seemed to understand the potential of what lay ahead, and it anticipated it with such eagerness that I no longer had control over what would or would not happen next.