Eye of the Falcon (Psychic Visions #12)(85)
“I want this over with,” she whispered in a raspy voice. “I want to go back home and have a normal life again.”
He pulled her tighter against his chest and said calmly, “I’m not sure I can let you go home.”
She snorted. “You’ve said that several times in one form or another. But, if push came to shove, you’d let me go.”
“What if I said I didn’t want you to go? That I wanted you to stay with me? To heal and stay at my house until we had a chance to get to know each other—like really get to know each other—and see if maybe something is here we wanted to nurture? What would you say to that?”
Slowly, ever-so-slowly, she rolled her head to look at him. He was once again amazed at her beautiful midnight-blue irises.
She gave him the sweetest smile and whispered, “I’d say, what the hell took you so long?”
He looked at her in surprise. “I’ve only known you for just over a week. I didn’t want to push you.”
“And yet, in many ways, I’ve known you forever,” she said simply. She stroked his face, her hand slipping around his ear before she pinched it gently and tugged him toward her. “I’m pretty sure there are a lot of ways of getting to know each other.”
And she kissed him. The minute her lips touched his, he was lost.
Chapter 26
She let her head fall back but kept her gaze on his. “Do we have time?” she whispered.
He smiled as he followed her down, his nose rubbing gently against hers. “Hawk won’t come in unless I give the signal.”
Her smile widened. “So does he already know?”
“He suspects.”
She kissed the corner of his mouth. And then his chin. Her hands gently ran through his hair, almost massaging his scalp. When her fingers stroked the inside of his collar, she whispered, “You are wearing too many clothes.”
He stared down at her. She placed her finger across his lips. “Do not ask me if I’m serious or if I’m sure or give me a second chance in any way. I’m sure what I want is you.”
He lowered his head and kissed her. A kiss of promise, a kiss of passion, a kiss of so much more. She pulled her head back, pushed him up, and said firmly, “Clothes off now.”
He gave a bark of laughter, hopped to his feet, and, while she watched, he stripped. Her blood heated as every inch of his skin showed up. He was a wonderful animal. He bore the scars of his past life and scratches from one of the birds. But he was muscle from top to bottom—toned, slim, lean, tanned. When he walked around the bed to her side, his erection standing at attention, she threw back the covers, shifting over to make room for him.
He stopped and shook his head. “Now you’re wearing too many clothes.”
She gave a shy smile and got to her knees. She lifted the heavy nightgown up over her head. She handed it to him. He tossed it to the side with his clothes. And they just stared at each other.
In a low voice she apologized, “I’ve got a little more flesh on me but not a lot. I’m sorry.”
He tilted her chin up. She could feel the heat across the distance. “I wanted you when I first saw you,” he whispered. “I could only hope you would heal and survive the torment that had been done to you. I’d never have touched you if it wasn’t what you wanted. And even now I’m scared of hurting you,” he admitted.
She smiled, lay back down on the bed, and opened her arms. “So maybe go a little easy the first time,” she whispered. “And, if all goes well, we can to do it all over again.”
He lay down on the bed beside her and gathered her in his arms. As if taking her at her word, he set about exploring and tasting every inch of her. Long slender strokes down her breasts, across her ribs, and over her flat stomach. She had healed so beautifully in such a short time. He knew her shoulder was still sore. But he kissed her gently on the scar, his fingers tangling in the bandage on her back. He shook his head, gently soothing with his tongue her sore muscles and tissues, only to slip down to a soft, small, plump breast, taking the nipple into his mouth and suckling it.
She cried out softly at the pulsation starting so deep and so low. He moved to the other one, licking the tip before taking it too in his mouth. She lay on her back, wondering at the joy coursing through her. Sensations rippled and poured as he soothed and stroked. She hadn’t expected to find anyone willing to help her. But to find a savior who also might be willing to love her was a gift she’d never hoped to receive in this lifetime.
She’d always found comfort with her feathered friends, not understanding or connecting in any meaningful way with those of her own species. She’d had several relationships. Always looking for that same thing she had had with Hadrid. And never finding it.
When he slid his fingers over her hips, along her thighs, and down her knees, she shivered. Instantly he raised his head to look at her. “Are you cold?”
She tugged him down for a soul-searing kiss. When he lifted his head, his breathing raspy and hard, she whispered, “No. I’m empty, lonely. I need you.”
She slid her arms around his neck and tugged him on top of her. Instantly the heat of his body surrounded her, filling her with his warmth, his heat, and his passion. Lord, she wanted him. As he stoked her fires, she released her own inner inhibitions and explored his beautiful body as he’d explored hers. When she grasped his erection in her hand, her fingers sliding gently over the sensitive tip, he groaned and rolled to his back, accepting everything she wanted to do.