Hanna and the Hitman - Honey Phillips Page 0,43
to linger.
A small nub of flesh at the top of her slit grew at his touch, and she shivered. He remembered licking her there, sucking the tiny bud into his mouth as she climaxed delightfully. He released her nipple, intending to repeat the experience, but when he looked up, her eyes were open, wide and blue in the morning light.
“Good morning, saachi.”
“You seem even better this morning,” she said happily.
“I feel like a new male.”
“I hope not too new. I rather like the old one.”
His heart thudded in his chest. “Do you, Hanna?”
“How can you even ask me that?” Her hand came up and cupped his cheek. Her hair fell away from her neck with the movement, and he saw the claiming bite. The redness had faded, but the ridged scar would never disappear. Pride and pain mingled as he reached out and traced the outline of his mouth with a gentle finger. She shivered and bit her lip.
“It’s so sensitive.”
“Am I hurting you?” he asked, appalled.
“Oh no. It’s the good kind of sensitive, like you’re touching…other parts of me.” Her cheeks flushed pink, and the color washed down over her chest.
“You mean when I do this—” He ran his finger more firmly across the scar. “—it feels like this?” He used the same pressure to glide across her clit.
“It’s not exactly the same, but—oh!”
She gasped as he closed his mouth over the mark and sucked gently. His hand was still between her legs, and he felt her quiver against him. He sucked harder as he circled the swollen pearl of flesh, then scraped his fangs along the bite mark. A rush of liquid heat met his fingers as she convulsed in his arms.
His cock throbbed eagerly, and he started to turn her into the mating position, but as he did, he caught the sound of his grandfather moving around in the outer room. Fuck. The reality of the limitations of his life—and how ill-suited that life would be for her—flooded him.
“We should be on our way,” he said firmly and pretended he didn’t see the confusion in her eyes as he pulled away from her and stood.
“So soon? Don’t you want to spend some time with your grandfather?”
“Why would I want to do that?” He had no desire to remain with the male who had made his childhood so difficult.
“Because he saved your life?” she said tartly, and he couldn’t suppress a pang of guilt.
“I’m glad he has some sense of family.”
“Aidon, it’s not just that. I think he’s lonely.”
“He has no one to blame for that except himself.”
Her eyes were troubled, and she was worrying her lip again, but she finally nodded. “I don’t understand, but if you want us to leave, then I won’t argue.”
“It’s for the best,” he said shortly.
Hanna didn’t protest again as Aidon wrapped a loincloth around his narrow hips and tied the knife to his belt. There were obviously some very complicated feelings between him and his grandfather, but she couldn’t help feeling that he was making a mistake. She and her aunt had had some disagreements in their time, but she had always known that the older woman was there for her.
She pulled Aidon’s shirt over her head with a grimace. After yesterday’s fast walk in the jungle heat, it wasn’t the most appetizing garment. It didn’t seem to bother him—his eyes heated when he turned and saw her wearing it.
“Did I mention that I like seeing you clothed in my shirt?”
“I’m glad you like it, but we need to get another one from the ship.” She wrinkled her nose. “Or find a washing machine.”
“Perhaps it’s not the most suitable fabric for the jungle.” He hesitated. “I wish that I could shower you in the finest luxuries, but I would prefer to avoid a trip to the city. I do have some things we can adapt at my house.”
“I’m sure that’s fine. It’s better than naked, right?”
His eyes flared, and he curved an arm around her waist, pulling her up against his body. “Naked is always preferable.”
“Not when there are other people around.” She remembered that he had never really talked about his home. “Do you live in a village or alone here with your grandfather?”
“Alone?” He frowned at her. “My grandfather is chief of this village.”
“There’s a village here?” she asked, astonished. But then she remembered how the house blended into the jungle. “How many people live here?”
“Perhaps one hundred households. I haven’t kept track.”
“There isn’t anyone you want to see