Warrior Rising (Goddess Summoning #6)(37)

Kat studied his face. He looked different so relaxed. Usually he carried himself with a rigidity that made it apparent, at least to her, that he was constantly worried about what would happen if he let loose. And she could hardly blame him after getting a firsthand glimpse of the berserker that waited to possess him. But right now Achilles thought he was on his special beach, safe and warm and relaxed. His face had lost that hard edge to it. His lips had softened, and were parted just a little bit, reminding her of how they’d felt against her mouth. What Achilles lacked in kissing experience he certainly made up for in enthusiasm and in strength.

Her gaze glided across his naked chest. She usually wasn’t a fool for muscles, but Achilles didn’t have the stupid steroid-pumped body of a preening gym “warrior.” His body was his tool. He used it well and he used it hard. And it bore the marks of such use.

Almost without her realizing it, her hand sneaked out so that her fingers could, once again, rest lightly on the old puckered scar on his bicep. She ran her fingers lightly up the scar, feeling its ridge. And then her fingers were straying to another scar that had once been a nasty slash along the top of his shoulder. This one was flat and thin. It must have healed cleaner than the other, she thought.

There were several scars on his chest. The worst was a jagged pink line that didn’t look very old. It went from above his left breast all the way down, crisscrossing his ribs and then disappearing under the light sheet he’d pulled haphazardly to his waist. Kat let her fingers follow the scar down his breast and over his ribs. Her fingers were moving lower when Achilles moaned.

Kat froze, her eyes immediately on his face. His eyes were closed and he still looked completely under. “You are deeply relaxed. Still in your cove.” Then she bit her lip. She probably shouldn’t ask… she definitely shouldn’t. Well, why the hell not? He’s not one of my married patients. God knows it’d be good for him. Kat cleared her throat and then asked softly, as her fingers continued to follow the path of his scars, “What do you feel, Achilles?”

“Your touch,” he said immediately.

“Do you like it?”

"Yes.”

“It is your cove, Achilles. Your special place.” Kat’s heartbeat started to increase as she spoke, but her voice stayed hypnotically soft and calm. “You can have whatever you wish in your cove. So, tell me Achilles, what is it you wish?”

“I wish you would not stop touching me.”

* * *

CHAPTER TWELVE

Deep in Kat’s body Achilles’ words caused heat to spread like she’d just downed a shot of twentysomething-year-old single malt. She felt the slick need between her legs and subdued the urge to press her thighs together to seek relief. It wouldn’t do any good anyway, that was not the kind of relief she needed. Kat’s eyes drifted lower to the bulge that was becoming more and more obvious beneath the sheet.

Could she do it? Could she make love to him and keep him hypnotized?

Unethical skank! Her inner editor shrieked at her. Thankfully Kat was excellent at gagging her inner editor. Plus the real question she needed to ask herself wasn’t if she could keep him hypnotized, but whether she could keep him calm enough that the berserker wouldn’t possess him. And she was far from sure she could keep him calm and make crazy, sweaty love to him.

Well… maybe they wouldn’t make crazy, sweaty love. Seriously there were just so many levels between celibacy and crazy lovemaking—or even sweaty lovemaking. Perhaps she could find a level that would work.

Again Kat reached out to touch Achilles. This time she let her hand caress a path over his chest and down to his hard abdomen. Her fingers dipped under the sheet. She didn’t actually touch his cock, but Achilles’ skin trembled beneath her fingers and he drew in a deep breath, which he let out in a moan.

“You’re still in your cove… relaxed… warm… safe,” she murmured, being careful to keep her voice hypnotic, which was damn difficult because her breathing had definitely picked up. “What else do you see there besides sea and coral and sand?”

“You,” he said. His deep voice was, thankfully, still relaxed and he sounded dreamy and exquisitely sexy.

“Yes,” Kat said before she could change her mind and turn back into a boring professional (sadly not practicing the oldest profession). “I’m there. What am I doing?”

“Lying beside me,” he said, and then before she could prompt him with another question he added, “There is no fear in you, and you are touching me.”

“Achilles, there is no fear where you are—no anger—no pain.” Suddenly she had the urge to cry. How long had it been since he’d been touched without fear or anger? Following her impulse, she lay down, facing him. Her head rested on his shoulder, her hand on his chest. “You are becoming more deeply relaxed,” she murmured softly. “My touch is your anchor. Your desire is guiding it. What do you desire, Achilles?”

“You.”

And that was it. That single word was her undoing. “Then you’ll have me,” she said, sliding her hand down slowly… slowly… until she grasped his hard shaft. Achilles moaned as she stroked the long, thick length of him. “Remember, this is a dream… only a dream…”

He moaned again and his hips lifted to meet her strokes. Kat slid her legs under the sheet and moved closer to him, and with a rush of liquid excitement she realized that he was completely naked. The loose linen wrap that had been covering him had come free, so there was nothing except the thin silk of her underdress between them.