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With her slightly off balance, he slipped his hands further under her and easily lifted her.

Her back came into contact with the door and she hissed.

Shit.

Heath pulled his lips away. “Did I hurt you?”

‘No,’ she shook her head and lifted her hands to his shoulders. “What about…”

She didn’t finish her thought, but he heard the words echoed in his skull.

‘What about your leg?’

“It…” he lifted her higher against him until her knees were high on his hips, her legs wrapping around him, “it doesn’t hurt at all.”

To prove his point to himself as much as her, he stretched and flexed the muscles in his calves, rocking against her heat.

He watched as her eyes widened a little.

While he kept his gaze fixed on hers, he adjusted the angle of her hips and his own and rocked against her, curling his hips.

Her lips parted and a soft breath escaped her lips, followed by a sound he could only liken to a needy moan.

That, he smiled as he repeated the rocking motion, she made that noise because of me.

Her eyes started to drift closed as he braced her back against the door and rolled his hips even harder against her.

“I…”

He paused for a moment, watching her carefully.

When her eyes flickered open and she met his gaze, she blinked once and then another two times.

“Heath?”

“What were you going to say?” He heard the hard tones of his voice, the rough scratch of it in his throat. It wasn’t a question, but a demand.

“I… I’ve never been so close with,” she bit her teeth into her bottom lip and her cheeks flooded with color, “all of my clothes on.”

Well, shit. He felt like a fucking king at that moment.

“Want to see if I can get you all the way like this?”

He didn’t wait for an answer. He leaned in and pressed his lips to the side of her throat.

He felt her pulse leap against his lips, and he chased it with his tongue.

Her hands on his back dug in, like she was trying to clamp onto him and hold him in place.

Was it wrong that he wished she had longer nails. He wanted to feel the pain. He wanted her to mark him.

He wanted scars that said he’d given her pleasure instead of the scars he wore from grief.

“Fuck,” he murmured against her throat, “you taste so damn good.”

She laughed and the sound did things to him.

He wasn’t worried that she was laughing at him.