He felt her shift against him and restrained his growl of impatient lust as her leg slid over his thigh, her knee nearly touching the taut flesh of his scrotum.
Sweet Lord, she made him hot. And he wasn't blaming it on the Mating Heat. He had known what she would do to him from his first confrontation with her.
She sighed against his chest, a soft little sound that clenched his heart as her hand smoothed over his chest and then back again.
He stilled, his breath nearly suspending as she repeated the action, her body tensing.
"What happened to you?" Her fingers picked up the nearly invisible line of scars that criss-crossed his chest.
"Training." He hoped she would leave it alone. Prayed she would let it go.
"What kind of training?" She leaned up enough to open drowsy eyes, though her gaze was as sharp as ever.
He was willing to bet she drove her father insane. She was too curious, too independent, and too set on having the answers she demanded.
"Simply training, Lyra," he finally answered her. "At times, I was not the perfect little soldier I should have been." He heard the bitterness that laced his voice, wincing at the sound of it.
Her fingers moved over the abrasive scars once again as her gaze tuckered to his. A gaze filling with anger. Making her angry had not been his intention. He wanted only to shelter her from what he had known during those years. There was no reason for her to know the brutality, the mercilessness of those who created him.
"I hope they're dead." Her snarl surprised him, as did the bloodthirsty fury in those beautiful eyes as she stared back at him. "Whoever did this, I hope you killed him." He had. But it wasn't something he was proud of.
He was proud of this small sign of protectiveness from her, though. She was angry on his behalf, not with him.
"It's over. That's all that matters." He touched her cheek, amazed at her, just as he had been from the first moment he had seen her.
She snorted at that, a completely unladylike sound that didn't really surprise him as her expression conveyed her disagreement with him.
"I need a shower." She finally shifted from him, her moves hesitant.
"I'll show you the shower and get you one of my shirts to wear." He moved from the bed before turning back and lifting her into his arms.
She gripped his shoulders, staring up at him in surprise.
"You're tender." And she was as light as a feather. "Perhaps try a bath to relieve the soreness. I have some Epsom Salts in the cabinet that will make you feel better."
Jonas had suggested hot baths rather than showers to help ease the soreness as well as the building heat for a small respite. He knew the scent of her and could detect the change as she moved farther through the ovulation process. The pill she had taken would do nothing to stop the heat, only the end result of the ovulation process. There would be no egg, no conception. He ignored the small flare of regret at the thought of it.
"I'm hungry, too," she informed him. "And I don't want any of those nasty biscuits, either. I want some real food." He set her down in the bathroom, staring down at her in confusion. "Such as?"
"I'll call Liu's. She'll have one of her boys deliver." She stared around the large bathroom before looking back at him pointedly.
An invitation to leave. That one was hard not to miss. But not yet.
"Let me know what you want, I'll have a friend pick it up for us," he suggested instead. "For the time being, I would prefer not to let anyone I don't know into the house." A small tremor raced through her body as she glanced away from him for a moment and breathed in heavily.
"Fine. I can understand that. As long as I get my Chinese fix."
He listened carefully to the dishes she wanted ordered, restraining his smile. It was enough to feed an army. It was a damned good thing he had a near-perfect memory.
"Bathe. I'll call Jonas and have the food picked up. By the time you're finished, it should be here."
He could smell the heat building in her and wanted her to have the time to enjoy the food.
"Thanks. Now go away." She waved him away with a delicate gesture of her fingers. "I don't need you in here right now." His lips quirked at her irritated expression, but he did as she asked. And he prayed. Prayed she had forgiven him for the animal he was, rather than the man he knew she needed.
"I need to go to the house for some clothes and stuff." Lyra found her gown and robe in the washroom, folded neatly on the top of the dryer after they had consumed the delivered Chinese food.
Her hunger was sated, but that was all. The steadily rising lust building in her body was about to make her crazy. It tingled in her br**sts and spasmed in her vagina. And she ached for his kiss—literally. She was certain no drug could be as addictive as his kiss was.