Page 87 of Shackled to the World
And found none.
Very gently, as if she was made of spun glass, he lifted up her sleeves to find smooth, unblemished skin. He lightly ran his fingers along her veins, the reassuring warmth of her skin calming him.
He turned over her arm, running his palm along her elbow. Then he methodically searched her other arm, inspecting every inch. When he was done, Annora grabbed the bottom of her battle-stained shirt and pulled it off over her head, leaving her wearing nothing but a minuscule tank top that barely covered her breasts.
He nearly swallowed his tongue when she tipped her head aside, silently urging him to finish his inspection. Blood flaked off her skin as he ran his hands over her exposed flesh. Though he found her sexy as hell, there was nothing sexual in his touch.
The longer he examined her, the more his control returned. She didn’t protest when he slipped his hand beneath her shirt, checking her stomach, then her back, trailing his fingers up her spine. His hands ran along her shoulders, then slid along her neck.
Without prompting, she turned her head the other direction. He ran his finger from her ear down to her collarbone, settling his palm possessively over her throat, wishing he had the power to remove the image of Erickson’s hand digging into her neck.
“Do it.” Annora grabbed his wrist to keep him from pulling away. “It’s the only way you’ll feel better.”
Camden swallowed hard, his breathing turning ragged at her husky demand. His cock hardened so fast it left his head spinning, and he stifled his groan. Unable to resist her, he leaned forward and placed his lips against her neck, every kiss, every caress marking her as his mate.
When she squirmed in his lap, he growled, the urge to bite her like a craving, and he jerked back. While she might be immune to his touch, he wouldn’t risk infecting her with his venom, not until he was positive it wouldn’t harm her.
Very reluctantly, he pulled back…only to find her smiling up at him, batting her pretty lashes. “My turn.”
Every drop of blood in his body headed south, and he struggled to think coherently. Despite knowing it was a horrible idea, he couldn’t resist her plea or the chance to know what it felt like to be touched, skin on skin.
Gooseflesh spread across his arms and torso at the thought, and he shifted restlessly, clearing his throat as he waited for her to make her move.
Her grin widened, and she reached out, pinching his shirt between her fingertips and tugging. “It would work better with this off.”
Camden opened, then closed his mouth, swallowing hard, and obeyed. He grabbed the back of his shirt and wrenched it over his head. The reality of what they were doing made his stomach lurch alarmingly and he held his shirt in front of him like a simpering, spinsterish maiden, suddenly nervous.
What if she didn’t like what she saw?
Then he wanted to kick himself for acting like a hormonal teenager. They wouldn’t be in this situation if she didn’t want him. But a little niggle of doubt remained like a worm, eating away at his courage and he couldn’t make himself drop his shirt, not when his entire future literally rested in his lap.
* * *
Annora watched the flicker of emotions cross his face and hated that her presence made him doubt himself. She knew what it was like to yearn for a kind touch and be denied. She refused to let him feel the same way ever again.
She carefully picked up his hand, noticing blood still caked his nails, bruises darkened his knuckles. She turned his hand over, tracing her fingertips lightly down his fingers and across his palm, carefully trailing them up his arms like he had done with her, peeking up at him from under her lashes. He watched her avidly, his harlequin green eyes swirling with emotions. She wasn’t sure he even breathed. Pleased to have his full attention, she skimmed her fingers along the crook of his elbow, enjoying the way he shivered as she explored him.
She didn’t have to turn his arm…he did it for her, guiding her touch. She raked her nails lightly along the tender underside of his upper arms, then dragged them around the outside and up to his shoulders, loving the way he shuddered.
Unnoticed, his shirt sagged to the floor, leaving him bare for her to touch wherever she wished. Though she felt drugged by him, it wasn’t the way he thought.
She didn’t feel tired or scared.
She craved more.
She loved knowing she could affect him as much as he affected her. He didn’t try to hide it, didn’t shy away. As she ran her palms down his chest, his breathing became erratic. Muscles jumped when she reached his stomach.
As she traced the edges of his waistband, he snarled, then quickly captured her wrists and pulled her hands away, dragging her close until their breaths mingled.
She swayed forward, lured by the need to taste his lips, but he jerked back and shook his head. “No.”
Her haze of lust evaporated, and she pulled back, only to be halted by his grip on her. She scanned his face, wondering if she’d read him wrong. He gazed at her so tenderly her heart quivered. “Why? You want me.”
She wiggled her fingers and raised a brow at him. “I’ve more than proved that I’m not afraid. You would never hurt me.”
“What if I’m afraid?” He gave her a lopsided smile.
His expression was so earnest and vulnerable, her stomach dropped and her body went ice cold. Of all the things she’d considered, she never thought he’d be afraid of her. She’d always assumed he felt the same way she did—and she quickly shook her head, too embarrassed to meet his eyes.
