her throat. His mouth blazed hot, his tongue a shuddering tease before his teeth closed over her pulse in a primal, dangerous claim.
Not a savage bite. Just hard enough to skate that sweet, giddy edge, and she knew when he lifted his head and she glimpsed his wild, almost feral eyes that he was no stranger to dancing along the line between pleasure and pain.
Then his gaze dropped, skimming over her collarbone to linger on the bare curves of her breasts. “You’re fucking exquisite.”
“Don’t tell me.” His beard rasped under her palm as she stroked his jaw. “Show me.”
He whirled them around. The room dipped and swayed as he sank a knee onto the bed and lowered her with such a perfectly controlled flex of muscle that she drifted lightly to the mattress. He braced a hand on either side of her head and stared down at her with a feverish glint in his eyes. “Just how strong are you?”
She arched against him. “Can we arm-wrestle another time?”
“Maybe.” A lazy smile curved his lips. “Some people chase after Protectorate soldiers. They think they’re getting a wild night with an out-of-control warrior. Some guys play to the fantasy, but it’s a lie. We can’t let go with human lovers. Too easy to hurt them.”
For a moment, Nina wanted to laugh. Then the true import of his words hit her, washing away any hint of amusement. How long had it been since someone had wanted him for who he was, not what he was? Judging from the hesitation that lingered just beneath his casual, easy words, too long.
It broke her heart.
She braced herself and shifted their positions, flipping him smoothly onto his back before sitting up over him. “It’s not so easy to hurt me.”
Relief transformed his face, and she realized that she’d never seen him without a subtle tension—the beginnings of a frown, or fine lines around his eyes, or muscles stiff with unease. All of that vanished as he ran his hands up her abdomen and splayed his fingers wide just beneath her breasts. “You have no idea how hot that is.”
“What, throwing you around a motel room?” She rolled her hips against his and shuddered through the jolt of pleasure that raced through her. “Cheap date.”
“You’re the only person who’s ever done it.” His thumbs swept up, teasingly close to her tight, aching nipples. He watched her intently as he pulled one hand back and licked the pad of his thumb.
When he pressed it to her nipple, she had to bite her lip to hold back a moan. She moved, desperate for the slick heat to continue, and it did—until he pinched her.
Nina grabbed his wrist, but not to pull him away. To dig her fingernails into his skin, silently begging for more. Obedient to her silent command, he tugged gently at her nipple, testing her response as he pushed her to the edge of pleasure and edged across the line into pain.
She breathed his name, a fervent sigh of anticipation and shivering approval.
“That’s it.” He sat up in a graceful flex of muscle, coming face-to-face with her for a charged moment before arching her back over his legs. It thrust her breasts up toward him, and he closed his lips around her nipple, chasing the kiss of pain he’d given her with the sweet, soothing stroke of his tongue.
It was unbearable, and Nina never wanted it to stop. She gripped his head, threading her fingers through his hair as he ground his hips up against hers with slow, unhurried movements.
She picked up the rhythm. But just as she was losing herself to the heat of his mouth and the hardness of his body beneath hers, he tipped her to the bed and scraped his teeth over her collarbone. He kissed a path between her breasts, nipped at her ribs, and tickled his tongue around her belly button.
Then he rose above her and slid his hands down her legs until his nimble fingers caught the laces on her left boot. He worked the knot loose and pulled off first one boot, then the other, all without looking away from her. His gaze was hot, his every movement precise. Efficient. Determined.
By the time he reached for the button on her jeans, Nina was ferociously glad she’d packed a couple of pairs of nice underwear. The sheer black mesh wasn’t fancy, but it was less utilitarian than her usual choices.
Knox didn’t seem to notice—or care—as he stripped every scrap of fabric