Page 18 of Tempting Her Grumpy Protector
“Yes!” she breathed, opening her thighs wider. “Yes, Greer—I’m your dirty girl. Please…wash me!”
“If that’s what you really want…”
One long finger entered her hot, wet depths and stroked against the aching button of her clit.
Sunny moaned and her hips bucked, loving the feel of his hands on her…of his fingers inside her. Oh God, it felt so good!
For a long moment his fingers lingered, circling the bud of her clit, sending sparks of electricity through her entire body. But then, reluctantly, he withdrew.
“Can’t do this here, little one,” he rumbled. “Shouldn’t be doing it at all.”
“But…” Sunny tried to protest. However, he was already withdrawing. Maybe he felt guilty—she didn’t though. She only wanted more.
It didn’t seem like she was going to get it, though. He was back to just washing the paint off her.
By the time Greer rinsed the last of the pigment from her thighs, her legs were trembling—and not from the cold. But then the Chief’s voice came again.
“Now the female will cleanse the male,” he declared pompously.
Sunny’s stomach gave a strange little swoop. Oh God, it was her turn.
Greer stood in front of her, the torchlight flickering over his tall, muscled frame. She dipped her hands in the tub and began at his pecs, the slick heat of his skin under her palms making it difficult to remember to breathe as she washed away her scarlet kisses.
His chest was broad, the planes of muscle hard under her touch. Sunny washed slowly, maybe too slowly, telling herself she was being careful to get every trace of pigment. His abs were next, ridged and perfect, and the way he watched her as she washed him made her cheeks flame hotter than the midday sun.
She moved lower, her fingers brushing over the line of his hips where the leaf kilt had been. He had that well-defined ridge of muscle on either side—that V that led downward. God, she loved touching him here!
And then she reached his cock, hanging heavy and thick between his thighs. It was still marked with the red paint from when she’d kissed him earlier.
Sunny swallowed hard.
If she left it, the Chief might say she hadn’t done a good enough job. If she washed it, she might never get the memory out of her head.
She decided to save it for last and went back to washing his abs for a while.
When she finally took his shaft in her hands, the cold water swirled around them, but the heat of him burned through her palms. He rose for her at once, thick and throbbing in her hands.
Sunny told herself sternly to be clinical—this was just a necessary part of their mission. But her heart was pounding and her fingers lingered longer than they should have, tracing his length before she reached the sensitive head and rinsed the last of the pigment away.
When she looked up, Greer’s eyes were locked on hers, pale gray and unreadable. But his breathing was not as steady as before. His warm, spicy, masculine scent rose to meet her and she knew he was making his Bonding Scent for her—the way Kindred did when they wanted the woman they were with. God, she’d never expected that from him!
Sunny felt the rush of heat between her thighs, sharp and insistent. Oh, she was in trouble. Big, forbidden trouble. They shouldn’t be doing this…but she never wanted to stop. She wanted to keep stroking Greer’s long, thick cock until he came for her…until he spurted his cum all over her belly and breasts…
But just as she was wondering how close Greer was to coming, Chief Lowhung cleared his throat.
Sunny quickly dropped her hands and turned to look at the Thropp’ian leader.
The Chief’s mouth was a flat, disapproving line. He spoke a string of words to their guide—too fast for Sunny to follow—before turning back to them.
“You have defiled the meaning of the markings,” he said at last, his voice like the crack of a whip. “If you are mates, you should have said so. If you are not, you should not have painted each other in such a way.”
Sunny’s cheeks burned hot enough to boil the cold bathwater.
“It was… a misunderstanding,” she started, but the Chief’s palm came up, silencing her.
“I do not care for excuses. You may return tomorrow to observe our rituals—but only if you do not profane them with false customs.” His eyes swept over them one last time, lingering on the water lapping at their bare flesh. “Go.”
Greer stepped out of the tub first, water streaming down his long legs, and offered her his hand. Sunny took it, but her legs felt shaky—half from the cold, half from the electricity still sparking through her from his touch. They put back on their leaf and grass skirts without speaking or looking at each other. Whatever had passed between them was clearly over, Sunny thought.
