The Darkest Torment - Gena Showalter Page 0,101

motioned to the table. He climbed on top and stretched out on his back, facing her.

Naughty boy. “Want to watch me, do you?”

“Always,” he rasped, unabashed.

She selected a bottle of vanilla-scented oil and moistened her hands. Pressing her hip against the side of the table, she held her fingers just over his chest without actually touching him, letting his anticipation build until he vibrated.

Now. She traced a fingertip lightly down his sternum, and he inhaled sharply.

“Painful?” she asked.

“Yes.”

Expected. For now. “Tell me if it worsens.” She traced her fingertip along the same path, again and again, always gentle, the oil leaving a glistening trail.

After a while, the furrow faded from his brow. His frown eased.

“Just as bad as before?” she asked, turning her attention to his butterfly tattoo.

This time, he hesitated. “Yes?”

A question. Definite progress.

The new ground she conquered caused his furrowed brow and frown to return with a vengeance. Thankfully, prolonged contact eased him, just as before. By the time she’d covered his entire chest, he’d stopped stiffening altogether and arched into every caress.

Keep it short and sweet! Always end on a positive note.

Though she trembled, thinking she might die of want, she concluded the session while both of them were eager for more. He protested. He protested loudly. Only her promise to start again first thing in the morning pacified him.

But the night proved torturous. A night they spent in different bedrooms. If they were together...

At dawn, she lumbered to the bathroom and took a shower. The water only reminded her of the heat and softness of Baden’s skin. Need to get my hands on him again.

She pulled on the cashmere robe. A naked Baden waited for her outside the door. He was hard, and he was fierce. Silent, he drew her to the table, stretched atop it, and waited.

Game, set, match.

“You’re ready?” Her trembles returned as she moistened her hands with the vanilla-scented oil.

“Beyond.”

With the first stroke, he groaned a sound of ragged desperation. With the second, he stiffened. With the third, he...relaxed?

She worked her way down, drawing closer and closer to his shaft, the object of her captivation.

Was he truly ready for more?

Shouldn’t rush, just because I’m starved for him. She changed paths, heading up, up; she circled one of his nipples, then the other. He cursed, even as the little brown buds tightened for her.

“Think they can tolerate the feel of my mouth?” Wisps of desire infused her voice. There was no hiding her need. Right now this man owned her.

“Think I don’t care if they can or not. I want your mouth.” Agony and pleasure pulsed from him, a potent black magic that intoxicated her. “Give it to me. Please.”

The ache between her legs...too much! But she lowered her head, anyway and flicked her tongue over his nipples. When his moans became harsh demands, she began to suck.

“Katarina.” He reached for his erection, as if to stroke it.

“No.” She grabbed his wrist, stopping him. “That’s mine. I won’t share.”

His gaze implored her. “Then do something with it. No walking away this time.”

She would do something, yes...but not just yet. If she did too much too fast, his agony might completely overshadow his pleasure.

“No walking away,” she agreed.

He gripped the edge of the table, his knuckles white as she slid her fingers down, down the ropes of his stomach. Her mouth followed. She dabbled at his navel, tracing her tongue around the edges before caressing and kissing his thigh, teasing him.

When he jerked his leg away from her, she paused, concerned. “Do you need a break?”

“No!” A bead of sweat trickled down his temple, catching in his hair. “Keep going. Please.”

Distract. “What did you think of me,” she said and licked his hip bone, “the day we met. I know I looked hideous. I remember your disgust.”

“The disgust wasn’t directed at you but me. I wanted you with a desire I didn’t yet understand. I never intended to take you with me, but I couldn’t leave you behind. I wasn’t strong enough.”

The admission did funny things to her insides. “I thought you were there to rescue me, and for once I didn’t care about being a damsel in distress. Now I know you did rescue me...and that you’re one of the best things to ever happen to me.”

Pride glinted in his copper eyes. Pride and pleasure. “I’ll protect you,” he said, the words heavy, as if weighted with a vow. “I’ll always protect you.”

“And I’ll protect you.”

But he wasn’t done. “You can rely on me,

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