A Pound of Flesh (A Pound of Flesh #1)(178)

She nodded, rubbing her cheek against his. The feel of his skin on hers made parts of her body clench and twist in subjugation.

“Every part,” she whispered passionately.

“Jesus,” he murmured by her earlobe. “It’s so— I don’t even have words.”

She knew exactly what he meant. Theirs was a love beyond words, beyond reason, beyond even the two of them. It was indescribable, inexplicable, but unbreakable and unyielding. Their connection, their bond, was sixteen years in the making. Even though they hadn’t known each other and had gone about their lives from one monotonous day to the next, they’d still been a part of each other, a silent, integral part that would always be, for as long as they both lived.

They were both powerless to stop it or deny it.

A surge of awesome strength swept through Kat’s body, pumping adrenaline through veins already hot from Carter’s declaration. It was an uplifting sensation, one she’d not experienced for a very long time. For the briefest of moments, with Carter in her arms and determination filling her from head to toe, she was truly unstoppable.

*

Kat kicked the quilt from off her feet. She was sweltering and, as nice as having Carter’s body pressed against her was, she had to move to cool down.

Glancing at the clock, Kat wiggled out of the bed—where she and Carter had been asleep for the last five hours—pulling her T-shirt off and turning the thermostat down from hot-ass sauna to just warm enough. She hurried to the bathroom, where she splashed some cold water on her face and pulled off her sweats, changing them to a small pair of sleeping shorts.

Kat’s skin immediately began to cool down. With a glass of water in hand, she wandered back into the bedroom to find Carter, still on his back, wearing only his boxer briefs. She smiled when she saw he’d kicked the quilt off, too. His hard stomach lifted and dropped hypnotically as he breathed.

He cracked an eye open and rubbed a palm down the center of his glistening chest, as she lay back down at his side. He looked deliciously rumpled.

She trailed her fingertips through the hair on his stomach. “Hey.”

He turned his dopey, pillow-creased face toward her, smiling lazily. “Hey.”

“How’s your heart?”

He reached for her hand and placed it on the left side of his chest. “You tell me,” he said, piercing her with an intense stare.

Kat bit her lip. “It’s pounding.”

“It always is when you’re near me.”

She took his wrist and did the same, placing his large hand over the top of her left breast. Unhurriedly, Carter lifted onto his elbow, watching his hand and her face with childlike wonder.

“It’s flying.” His gaze moved from his hand, leisurely up the curve of her neck, stopping hungrily at her lips before it rested resolutely on her eyes. His silence made the hair on the back of Kat’s neck lift and tingle, while the air around them began to thicken and buzz.

“Do I do that to you?” he asked, tracing the gooseflesh along her arm.

“Every time you look at me.”

[page]The tips of his fingers danced lightly along the lace edge of Kat’s bra. Her chest heaved at the sensation and her eyes fluttered closed of their own volition. With featherlight touches, Carter moved his hand over to her right breast, tracing every curve, caressing lightly, while purposefully missing the places Kat was desperate for him to touch.

Shifting his body closer, Carter began to draw languid figure eights up toward her collarbone, mapping its shape and pressing against the pulse points in the valley of her throat. It was such a simple thing, for him to touch her that way, but Kat was unable to hold back the soft whimper slowly building with every brush of his gentle hand. His index finger dropped from her throat and meandered knowingly, erotically, down between her breasts, over the fabric of her bra, to the soft skin of her stomach.