Page 67 of Silent Comrade
She sighed as he swept his tongue into hermouth, changing angles, nipping, tasting. His touch sent quiversfrom her head down through her belly and into her toes. She pressedagainst him, her short skirt crunching against his boxer-briefs.Too much clothing.
God, his kisses were like discovering theanswer to a question she didn’t know she needed to ask. He lockedher in his arms and plundered her mouth in the best possible way.Instead of suffocating her, his deep, intense kisses still gave herair to breathe. His sexy grunts lent her fierce strength to pressagainst his mouth, insisting on more. Dragging her fingers upbehind his neck, she stretched to meet him, kiss for kiss.
He didn’t disappoint. The rough and smoothof his tongue swept patterns of pleasure until her knees gave outon her. Al braced his legs shoulder-width apart and his armstightened, not a painful grip but solid, stable.
Somehow they ended up with Al half-sittingon the back of the couch, drawing Britt between his thighs, intothe heat and hardness there. The trail of his rough fingertips overher bare back drew out shivers. Brushing his fingers lower, heskimmed the sensitive skin peeking out between the hem of her topand the skirt’s waistband. Then he slid his hands around to undothe lower clasp of the halter top. He scooted her shirt up, inch byagonizing inch, until he brushed the underside of her breasts withthe rough pads of his thumbs.
He lifted his mouth away for a second.“Britt.” His breath came out harsh, like he’d finished sprinting amile.
Following suit, she ran her hands under hisshirt. Curling her fingers in the sparse hair overlying the hardridges of muscle, she smiled. “Yes?” Which turned into a long gaspon the “s” as his thumb flicked over a sensitive nipple.
That grin of his. Not so much happy asdetermined. Possessive.
Promising more. Demanding more.
God, she wanted more.
She couldn’t relieve the pressure buildingin her hips, and shifted, restless against him. The ridge of hiserection hit the perfect spot between her legs.
“Careful,” he growled.
Reaching behind her neck, Britt untied theknot, letting the shirt fall off. “I’m tired of being careful.” Shegrasped his narrow hips.
His rasping indrawn breath triggeredbutterflies deep down inside of her.
Then he slid his arm around her and sheleaned back, knowing he would hold her steady, giving himaccess.
Oh yes, she thought, when his hotmouth latched onto a breast. Every one of his muscles tensed as heheld her.
She sensed that Al held himself back, likean engine revving in neutral.
The vehicle was tuned, fueled, and waitingto jump into “drive.”
Britt slid her hands up his ridged torso,then slowly back down past the waistband. She put one hand on thegearshift.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Foreplay for most normal people didn’tcreate stark terror that they would accidentally rip the limbs offtheir partner.
Red took another breath and tried to gethold of the viral impulses. Unfortunately, Britt got hold of himfirst.
His eyes rolled back in his head as shestroked him through the fabric of his briefs. Her fingertipsdrifting over the stretchy material, sounding like silk overleather to his ears. Tasted like thick spices. Smelled like desire.Senses coalesced again, tinting his world red. Red needed more. Thevirus needed more. Pronto. Minus the underwear.
Gentle. He had to be gentle. Even now, hewas losing control of the amount of force he applied when grippingher upper arms.
She squeaked but didn’t stop the action ofher hand on him. “Why are you holding back?” She ran her thumb andfingers up and down his covered length until his vision wentblurry.
“Don’t want to hurt you,” he gritted out.God help him, he would keep her safe in all respects.
“It would hurt more if you didn’t share allof yourself,” she murmured.
No way did she truly understand what sheasked, given the kind of creature that stood in front of her. “I’mphysically stronger than you, Britt.” An understatement. He wasstronger than nearly anyone in this universe. The words tore out ofhis throat as he swallowed. “I could cause you pain.”
“I will feel pain if you don’t kiss meagain.” Her voice was like he imagined expensive champagne wouldtaste—layers of delicious bubbles andflavors tempting him to drink deeply, again and again.
He opened one eye. With her hand stillresting on his hard erection, she smiled, catlike, arching her backand enticing him. Her light skin was marred by the bruises on herneck. His rage spiked, quickly followed by the need to replaceinjury with pleasure. He would give the lady what she wanted.Anything.
Licking his lips, he bent his head. “Can’thave you suffer, then.” He laved one tight breast with his mouthwhile he rolled the other nipple between his fingers. Her gasp randown him like a cool breeze, invigorating, enticing. He needed moreoxygen than his body could obtain.
