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Luka stared down at her in concern. His fingers brushed along the edge of her scalp like they had many times before.
“Nightmare?” he asked, his voice sending a shiver over her skin.
“No,” she answered. There was a fever in her body, especially down below. Alina wondered whether she should admit that she’d had her first erotic dream.
Her hand reached for his face, but she stopped herself in time. She forced her healing wrist back down to her side.
Luka’s fingers paused. “You can touch me,” he offered. His body had stiffened, as if bracing for the pain that would bring.
Alina shook her head. “I can’t.”
He leaned down, kissing her cheek and sending another shiver through her body. “It’s okay, if it’s you.”
She searched his eyes, seeing determination there. Only one thing mattered to her. “Will it hurt you?”
Luka didn’t deny it. He just repeated, “It’s okay.”
Alina shook her head. “No, it’s not.”
His breath shuddered out. His hand slipped into her hair, so gentle. He shifted closer to her on the bed until his lips brushed against her ear. “Can I touch you? All over?”
It was her dream. Alina wanted him to touch her more than he could possibly know. A low moan slipped from between her lips.
Luka raised his head to study her, his eyes thoughtful. “Same sound,” he murmured.
Alina’s face heated. She must have been moaning in her sleep.
His small smile that had been appearing more and more came. “About me?”
He was asking about her dream, in his disjointed way. “Yes.” She swallowed, trying to keep her body from lifting toward him. “Please, Luka. Touch me as much as you want.”
His other hand moved from where it encircled her wrist to brush over her cheek. “Not too tired?”
The idea that he’d been holding back while she healed sent more heat through her. Alina grabbed the hem of her shirt, his shirt that she wore. Luka edged back as she lifted it over her head and tossed it aside. Her breathing was already too fast as she lay back on the bed.
Luka’s light green eyes seemed to brighten as they roved over her body.
She’d already taken off her jeans to nap, so she only had to wriggle off her underwear to be completely bare. “All over,” she reminded him, forcing herself to breathe deeply and not pant for it. “You promised.”
Luka’s smile had fallen. There was an intentness to his gaze that caused her thighs to press together against the ache.
He didn’t take off his clothes, and she was disappointed to realize he hadn’t meant sex, not yet, but then he was reaching for her. He didn’t make her wait for his touch. His fingers brushed over her nipples, whisper soft.
Her chest lifted into the caress, making the pressure harder. Doubts filled her as his jaw tightened. “Touching me hurts you, doesn’t it?” she asked, some of the heat dissipating.
Again, Luka didn’t deny it. “Tingles.” He swallowed as his palms grazed her nipples. “Good tingles. More than the pain.”
Her tension left as she accepted the words, and because his hands were moving in little circles, causing her nipples to tighten. The fingers on one hand pinched as his other slid to her stomach, but not lower than that, even though she ached for his touch.
The light pinch and tug ratcheted up her ache. When he lowered his face to her breast, she thought her heart might stop. He wasn’t just touching. He was also kissing.
The brush of his lips was so gentle. He repeated it before she could ask him to, and she held her body still, except for the shivering she couldn’t control. He wasn’t touching her everywhere, he was only touching her breasts, but she didn’t care when that touch was doing so much.
The difference in pressure, the soft press of lips and that pinch and pull, shattered her focus. Her legs shifted wide as her hips rocked, only his hand on her stomach keeping her on the bed. There was nothing to rock against, nothing to ease the tingling ache that already felt like too much.
Her breast pressed against his face, surprising a soft exhalation out of him that widened his mouth enough to dampen her nipple. It felt amazing, and she arched into him again. When his lips closed, it was an even better tug than his fingers.
Another moan slipped out, mingling with his choked sound as his lips moved on her.
