A sensual feminine laugh. "I'm okay, baby." Her hands gripped the sides of his waist. "I'll let you know when I need something other than what you're doing."
So she was aware of her anxiety, unsurprising really, given her will. "Don't scratch too hard."
Another laugh. "I'm not the dangerous one in this bed. You're driving me crazy, you know that."
"Good. My research tells me that that is my job as your lover. I hear predatory changeling women are tough critics."
"Believe me, you have nothing to worry about." She licked at the skin of his neck.
Breaking the contact, he fit his body over hers, alert to her reaction. She didn't withdraw, so he braced himself on one arm and brought the hand of the other up to close over her satin-covered breast. She sucked in a breath. And when he nudged at her with the painful hardness of his erection, she didn't hesitate to wrap her legs around him. "Kiss?"
He fulfilled her request, already addicted to the taste of her. His male instincts bucked at the reins, wanting to go quicker, deeper, but he held fast, helped by the very skills that usually kept him coldly distant. As they kissed, he massaged her breast, testing what made her moan, what made her wriggle. Brenna, he discovered, liked it when he was firm in his touch. Soft caresses just made her complain with feminine impatience.
He was very, very glad for his lover's preference. He knew he could do gentle - he had the control for it - but tonight he wanted to love her with everything in him. "Off," he ordered, pushing up her slip. The plan had called for this to come later, but he hadn't factored in the seduction of this particular woman so lush and welcoming beneath him.
She raised her arms and he pushed the material over her breasts with every intention of pulling it over her head...but found himself unable to move any farther. The mounds of her breasts thrust upward in pure temptation, the nipples hard and tight. He wanted to see them properly. Not thinking, he tried to use Tk to flick on a lamp but, of course, nothing happened.
Reaching across, he manually turned on the small light integrated into the headboard. It emitted a warm, almost hazy, glow. Brenna gasped but didn't say anything, letting him devour her with his eyes. Her nipples were a dark strawberry color, the upper curves of her breasts creamy...but for a scatter of freckles that taunted his analytical Psy mind with their wild abandon.
"Judd?"
The thick desire in her voice was the last straw. Dipping his head, he sucked one tight bud into his mouth. Her hands gripped his hair as her body twisted under him as if to escape. But when he released the nipple to switch his focus to the other, she protested.
The sensations inside him were pure chaos. Fire and need and erotic heat. But blending into that dark male passion was something gentler, an emotion that didn't dull the jagged edges of his hunger but which made him aware of Brenna's reactions on an almost subconscious level. Tenderness. It was a strange feeling. So raw, so powerful, and yet it engendered the most intense care.
He let her nipple slide out of his mouth. She pulled him back, but he was more interested in running his gaze over the sheen of wetness on her breasts, wetness he had caused. A surge of possessiveness gripped him by the throat. Yes, she was most definitely his. Spurred to see more of her exotic female body, so unashamedly curvy, so different from his, he dragged the bunched-up slip up over her head and threw it aside.
"Keep them there," he ordered when she would've lowered her raised arms.
She curled her fingers around the bars in the headboard, her eyes watching him with unconcealed interest. The position left her entire upper body exposed to his gaze and he took blatant advantage. Leaning in, he blew a breath across her nipples. Her body rose and fell in a sweet, soft wave and she held on tighter to the thin metal rods.
"It's time for my bite," he warned.
"Oh, God."
The desire in that groan made his erection pound in time with his heartbeat. "Which side should I start on?"
Swallowing, she licked her lower lip. "Your choice."
He cupped her left breast, shaped, stroked. And then he did what he'd threatened - he closed his teeth over one luscious side and pressed just hard enough to have her bucking under him. A long taste later, he did the same to her other breast. "Mmm," he murmured, raising his head. "I think I'll have seconds." And he did.
Her chest fell up and down in ragged bursts. "Baby, are all your plans so detailed and slow?"
"Why?" He nipped at the underside of one breast.
She shivered. "Because I think you might give me a pleasure-induced stroke at the rate you're going."
Running his hands along her rib cage and to the dip of her waist, he kissed his way down the valley of her breasts and over her stomach. "Sometimes," he said, "I'll probably just pick you up, thrust you against a wall, and drive into you so hard, you'll scream." He used two fingers to pinch her clitoris in a firm grip as the last word left his mouth.
She exploded, her body arching so fiercely she lifted off the bed. Releasing the pearl of flesh that could cause such exquisite pleasure, he rose to kiss her neck as she shook with the aftereffects of her orgasm.
A feminine hand clenched in his hair. "You did that on purpose." Husky, pleasured.
"What?" He began tracing a return path down her body.
"The image of you driving into me and then the touch." She didn't stop him when he began to lay kisses along the waistband of her panties. "Your way of proving the mind-body connection."
He looked up with an internal scowl that he was sure had made it to his face. "You're supposed to be too sated to think." Or worry.