Through the Fire (Daughter of Fire, #1)(62)

Trailing his kisses lower, warming my stomach and promising at delights still to come, his fingers teased my sides softly. Butterflies rolled through my stomach, rising to meet his lips with a flutter of my skin at each soft ministration. I wanted to pull his body back up mine so that I could show him how much I liked what he was doing, but selfishly decided that I didn’t want my own pleasure to stop.

When he reached the edge of the bed, he planted one knee between my legs and one hand beside my waist as he hovered his body over mine. With reverent attention, he traced my body from my breasts to my hip bones with his hands. His eyes trailed his hands with a rapt gaze.

Once he reached my hips, he hooked his fingers into the sides of my panties and, without waiting for further permission, dragged them down my legs. As he threw the last of my clothes aside, he pushed off the mattress to stand in front of me and gazed at me with such longing that I was left breathless. I didn’t have a chance to grow self-conscious as a stream of compliments flowed from his lips at what he saw.

He nudged my legs apart and fell to his knees between them before pressing small kisses against my inner-thighs. With a deliberate, slow precision he trailed his lips upward, closing in to the parts of me where the fires burned hottest. My skin flinched and twitched beneath his soft ministrations, each sensation simultaneously too much to bear but nowhere near enough.

“Please, Clay!” I cried out with need, not knowing what exactly I was pleading for but certain he was the only one who could deliver it.

My stomach clenched as his breath blew out over my heated flesh before he moved forward and grazed his lips against the apex of my thighs. My fingers trailed into his hair, and I tugged it as his tongue caressed me intimately.

“Oh god!” The words flew from me without conscious thought. With his mouth on me, it was hard to concentrate on anything, but a longing to be connected with him again struck me.

Even though I wanted him to keep going, and going, I pushed him from me, ignoring the little whimper he gave as I did. Then I sat up to get closer to him, drawing his lips back to mine, not even caring that I could taste myself on him.

I unbuttoned his shirt and pushed the thin material off his shoulders. As my fingers trailed over his pecs, his muscles flinched under my touch. Without a pause, he wrapped his arms around me and held me securely against his bare chest, almost lifting me off the bed. Any worries that my ever-increasing heat would be a turn off for him was dispelled as he held me closer than he ever had.

Standing, he removed his jeans and boxer shorts—pushing them to the ground and kicking them off with desperate speed. I rested back on my elbows to watch his actions and was not disappointed. He was completely naked except for his gold chain and the Rain pendant hanging around his throat.

My gaze explored his body as closely as he had mine, drinking in the visual evidence of the changes the years on the road had done to his body. A number of scars of various size and age marred his almost perfect skin. Although I could recall the hints of scars that I’d seen in Charlotte, I’d never seen him completely undressed before, so I couldn’t be sure which ones he’d always had or how many he’d acquired in the time we’d been apart. Certainly some looked more recent than others, even crisscrossing over older wounds in places. I wanted to follow the patterns they made with my tongue just as desperately as I wanted to know the story behind each one. I followed the patterns lower until my gaze reached his lower abs, which formed an arrow pointing straight to the part of him that I was now craving.

I gulped down a breath as I eyed his thick erection. I was so ready for him; this was too many years overdue. Just as I pushed myself up to sit properly again, to get a better view—to touch and to taste—Clay cleared his throat.

Lifting my gaze to his face, I paused at the slightly amused expression I found there.

“You done ogling?” he asked with a raised brow.

I shook my head with a grin. “Not even close.”

He grinned, before his mouth fell and he turned ashen. “Shit.”

“What?” I pushed myself farther off the bed and strained my ears. Had he heard something outside the door? My escape from his brother filled my head and my heart raced. “What is it?” My words refused to flow easily.

“Fuck. I didn’t think, Evie. I mean, I thought, but I forgot. In the rush to get everything. I forgot. Fuck!”

I frowned in confusion. “What did you forget?”

He sighed. “It’s been a while, and, well, I didn’t stop to get any protection.”

Relief trickled down my body—it wasn’t his family. It was a normal concern. A boyfriend type of concern. I laughed. “It’s okay.”

“Stupid.” He smacked his forehead.

“Clay, they, umm, they don’t work for me anyway. Heat and latex?” I scrunched up my nose. “Not a good mix.”

He frowned before shaking his head, as if trying to dislodge a bad thought. His hand scrubbed at the back of his neck, the movement causing his abdomen muscles to flex and contract, and making his erection twitch. My mouth watered with want and as the relief that his pause wasn’t anything to do with his family or immediate danger trickled through me, it bought a renewed sense of need.

Clay still seemed a little hesitant though.

“Is there anything I need to be worried about?” I asked in a gentle voice.

“No,” he said. “I’ve, ah”—he cleared his throat—“I’ve always been careful.”