Healer's Need Page 13

  Oh, no. He wasn’t rushing her past this. Lack of experience or not, being with Tate made her a seriously greedy woman, and he’d just unveiled a whole new playground.

  Rather than straddle his hips as she had before, she crawled between his knees.

  He cocked them both and spread them a little wider, an appreciative rumble slipping past his lips. “I wish you could see what you look like right now. How wide your eyes are. How your lips are parted. How focused you are on every detail.”

  She grazed her fingertips from the inside of his knees upward, the light dusting of hair along his thighs tickling her palms. She was focused on details, all right. Namely, how his size seemed a whole lot more intimidating without clothing barring the view, and how the skin around his shaft looked almost painfully taut. She traced the sharp V at his hips. “I want to get it right.”

  That said, she didn’t have a clue what to do next. Where to start, or how to make him feel good.

  “Sweetheart, you’re my mate. Short of coming at me with a machete, there’s not a damned thing you could do to me right now that could ruin this moment, and even then, I’d probably let you have at me.”

  It was just the levity she needed. The easy laughter that bubbled up fueling a potent reminder that she was human. That they both were. This wasn’t about acing an exam, or winning a competition. This was about getting to know each other. Exploring and laying whatever foundation worked for them.

  “No sharp objects. I promise.” She bit her lip, smirked up at him and gently scraped her nails along the tender skin on either side of his shaft. “Well, except for these, but I promise I’ll keep those in check.”

  His cock jerked against his belly and he groaned. “On my cock, yeah, but when I’m fucking you, I wanna feel them in my back.”

  Flutters swirled and dipped in her belly and her breath hitched, the wild image he’d created with his words jolting her headlong into a whole different headspace. She held his gaze and repeated the stroke, softer this time, but letting the sides of her fingers brush the length of him.

  His gazed heated, the predator locked inside staring back at her. “You like that don’t you?”

  “Like what?”

  “The words.” His lips curved in a dirty grin. “They shocked you, but they felt good, too.”

  For a second, she considered denying it. Even thought about drawing her hands away from him and ending their fun for the night simply to hide the vulnerability he’d uncovered.

  But that same, animalistic response she’d felt this afternoon pushed forward instead, overcoming her insecurities and fears with an almost bulletproof confidence. Guided her to welcome the truth. To step into the possibilities he created and take what she wanted.

  “I do.” With trembling fingers, she stroked him root to tip. “I won’t say I understand it, but I felt them.”

  Back down she went. Then up again. With each pass, she grew bolder. More engrossed in her learning and more intrigued with his response. Talk about a disconnect between theory and reality. Yes, she’d known what to expect in a textbook sense. Had even fed her curiosity with porn explorations over the years. But nothing came close to the real deal. To the discovery of how soft his skin would feel compared to the strength beneath. To the warmth of him against her palm. To the ragged breaths her touch generated and his hiss when she fisted him at the base.

  She hesitated, gauging his body language and the fierceness in his stare. “Too much?”

  “More.”

  A dare.

  A demand.

  Both lashing her back into motion and stoking her own response higher. Odd, how he was the one receiving pleasure, but she was right there with him. Caught in the moment and keenly aware of the growing ache in her own body.

  She swirled her thumb in the precum pooled at the tip of him. Painted it along the flared head and along the prominent ridge beneath.

  She wanted more of it.

  Wanted to watch his release and witness the aftereffects. To claim that private moment with him and hoard it for herself.

  A shocking realization, but deliciously primal. Freeing.

  But she had no clue how to make it happen. To make the moment something beyond what her limited skills could provide.

  Unless you decide to take matters into your own hands, of course. In which case, I’d enjoy like hell watching.

  He’d suggested it for her, but the idea of seeing himself bring himself off was far more appealing. A chance to learn and enjoy at the same time.

  With one last lingering caress, she pulled her hands free and sat back on her heels. “I want to see how you do it.”

  He studied her a moment, thoughtful. “How I do what?”

  Dammit. She should have known he’d make her spell it out. But if he could speak so bluntly with her, surely she could manage the same. “I want you to make yourself come, and I want to watch it happen.”

  He slid the hand at his chest lower, hesitating above his belly and rubbing back and forth rather than grasping his shaft like she wanted. “That’s a big jump from where we started.”

  A huge jump. One she was terrified she couldn’t reciprocate in kind. But seeing him like this—this open and ready. This primal and hungry. Surely, it was worth the risk and the effort. “Is that too much? Because, I’ll be honest. I don’t know if I can do the same.”

  “Don’t know if you can come, or aren’t ready yet?”

  Heat scored her cheeks and, if she hadn’t been so soundly ensnared by the profound energy prickling between them, she’d have probably sprinted out the front door to hide her embarrassment. “On my own I can, I just...well... I don’t know if I can get there with you watching.”

  “But you’ll touch yourself for me? Let me watch you?”

  Could she? Really?

  The quiet swelled between them, tension, desire and lust drawing her deeper. Consumed her and pulled her under. She swallowed hard. “So long as you don’t expect icing.”

  He smiled huge, the mischief sparking behind his eyes the only warning she got before he knifed upward and tumbled her to her back, the playfulness in his actions completely dispelling what was left of her anxiousness. “No expectations. None except that you do what feels good. You don’t do things for me. You do them for you and because you want it. Understand?”

  She nodded. Though, with the way he was looking at her right now and the foreign feelings swirling through her, she’d have probably marched through Times Square naked if he asked her to.

  His smile slipped and he cupped the side of her face, a cautious expression stealing across his features. “You sure you want this?”

  Was he kidding? Any level of certainty she’d had when they’d driven here tonight had fizzled the second he’d walked out of the bathroom shirtless. It’d been a nonstop tango through unfamiliar terrain ever since. “I learned I had a mate tonight, tattooed my name in his skin and have a naked man who’s left me tongue-tied since the day I met him almost pinning me to the bed. My brain stopped working a long time ago.”

  He grinned. “Tongue-tied, huh?”

  She tried to make a serious face and paired it with a healthy shove against his shoulder. “Shut up and show me what I want to see.”

  Of course, he didn’t budge, but his grin deepened, and his eyes twinkled. “Keep stoking that attitude, mate. One of these days it’ll get you a response that surprises you.”

  Before she could ask what he meant, he rolled to his back, reached for the top nightstand drawer and pulled out a clear bottle with a dark gray top.

  Elise sidled closer. “What’s that?”

  He waggled it so she could see it better then stacked the pillows higher behind his head.

  Lubricant.

  She probably should have tried to act more grown-up about it, but she couldn’t help but giggle and cocked an eyebrow. “Hav
e that kind of thing handy, do you?”

  He grinned and flipped the lid open with his thumb. “I met my mate over two weeks ago and haven’t been able to touch her the way I wanted until tonight. I could have bought this stuff by the case.” He sat the bottle next to his hip and raked her with a smoldering look. “Come closer. I want you next to me.”

  She stretched out beside him and he pulled her into the crook of his arm, guiding her head to his chest.

  “Fucking love the feel of you next to me.” He speared his fingers into her hair and inhaled deep. “Though, I gotta admit. I’m looking forward to feeling it without your clothes between us.”

  Good grief. She hadn’t thought about that part. Though, now that he pointed it out, she was looking forward to it, too. Another exploration she had no doubt would prove as addictive as all the others he’d taken her on. She splayed her hand above his sternum, the beat of his heart against her palm far steadier than her own.

  His hand in her hair slid lower, slowly trailing the length of her smile. “You realize it’s probably going to take me all of five strokes to get off with you watching me.”

  She propped herself up on her elbow. “Then you better make them a stellar five strokes so I know how to handle the job myself next time.”

  One heartbeat. One jolt that moved like lightning between them.

  He picked up the bottle and handed it to her. “If you’re telling me you’ll handle the job from here out, I might get things done in four.”

  Chuckling she took the bottle. “Why are you giving this to me? I’m not certified yet.”

  “Because if I’m gonna keep my shit in check, then I’m going to keep one hand on you to remind me my stamina card is on the line.” He motioned for her to get on with things with a few quick crooks of his fingers. “That means you’re on lube dispense duty.”

  It was a clever ploy, but she wasn’t buying it. Tate never did anything without a sound reason, and his go-to approach where she was concerned was getting her as involved as possible—the fresh tattoo on his chest being her strongest case to date.

  She tipped the bottle over and gave it a gentle squeeze.

  “Jesus, you’re the only woman I know who can make a simple thing like that look hot.”

  She snapped the lid shut and frowned at him. “I do not.”

  “You do, too. Concentrated on the task like you were reaching for the holy grail and bit your lip while you did it.” He gripped himself way more aggressively than she had and dragged his hand upward. A long, leisurely stroke that left her slack-jawed and stupid. “I can’t wait to see how focused you get in the next few minutes.”

  Focused? There wasn’t a word in any language that summed up the level of concentration holding her spellbound in that moment. Riveted. Captivated. Dumbfounded and bewitched. They all fell short. And while a tiny sliver of the innocent sensibilities she’d walked in here tonight with still whispered in the back of her mind, the new awareness he’d brought to life blossomed bigger and brighter with every glide of his hand. On the wet sounds of the lube against his taut skin and his earthy masculine scent filling her lungs.

  His breaths shallowed and a low rumble rolled up the back of his throat. “You look like you want something, mihara.” His hand at her back slipped lower, firmly cupping her ass. “Tell me what you want.”

  To help. To mimic each languid stroke and feel that velvety hardness against her palm. Rather than answer with words, she skimmed her fingertips down the faint trail of hair beneath his belly button.

  “That’s it.” A murmured encouragement. A dark devil luring her deeper. “Take what’s yours.”

  Hers.

  That odd connection she’d felt this afternoon resonated its agreement. Urged her to release all her concerns and worries and just flow with the moment. To touch, taste and feel to her heart’s content.

  She pressed her lips to his belly then cautiously flicked her tongue against his skin.

  “Fuck, yes.” Tate palmed the back of her head, but his touch was tender. Careful. “Just like that.”

  She went with it. Savored his skin with her lips and fingers. Floated on the rasp of his heavy breaths. Watched his hand working his sex.

  When she slid her hand down the top of his thigh, he widened his legs.

  She circled upward, slowly inching her way toward his tight sac. Hesitating no more than an inch away, she risked a glance at his face.

  A hunter stared back at her. A dangerous beast barely leashed. His eyes were solidly locked on her and burned with challenge. Over and over, he pumped his hand along his rigid length. “Do it, mihara. You want to watch me come, then touch me the way you want to. Make it happen.”

  Her call.

  Her touch unleashing his release.

  In that moment, she understood. It wasn’t about performing. About executing anything just right or meeting anyone’s expectations. It was about connection. Setting aside everything except the two of them and riding the moment. In fully engaging at the most fundamental level.

  Her fingers whispered featherlight against the dusky skin and he moaned, bucking against his fist.

  So erotic. An exceptionally primal male on display only for her.

  She trailed her fingers lower, the weight of his balls pressing firmly against her palm.

  My mate. All mine.

  She tightened her grip, an instinct she couldn’t quite understand driving her actions.

  A feral growl filled the room, and he bucked against her hold, the muscles along his arms, torso and neck straining as he pumped faster. Harder. Milking his shaft as come jetted against his belly. Not once did he close his eyes. Just held her stare throughout his release, his gold gaze smoldering behind heavy-lidded eyes.

  She lay back down beside him, tenderly whispering her touch parallel to one long, pearly white stream just above his belly button. Too fascinated to pass the opportunity up, she ran her fingertip through it. Sampled the silky glide and texture against her skin.

  “I want to mark you with it.”

  Pleasure speared low in her belly and her sex clenched so hard it was a wonder she didn’t come just from his words alone.

  He cupped the back of her neck and teased his thumb along her hairline. “I want to fill you with it. See it slip from your pussy and along your inner thighs after I’ve taken you.”

  Another tremor. This one more potent than the last and leaving her breathless. “Tate.”

  Whether she was asking him to stop or say more, she wasn’t entirely sure, but his name on her lips was a lifeline. A much needed foothold on an otherwise perilous cliff.

  “Elise, look at me.” His low voice coiled around her, rich with a languorous rumble that danced along her skin. A temptation calling her to surrender.

  Slowly, she lifted her head.

  The calming stroke along the back of her neck never faltered. “I know what we agreed to, but you don’t have to do anything you don’t want. There’s no hurry. Not between us.”

  Funny. He thought she was hesitant, but the truth was she’d die without his touch. Fears, modesty and insecurity or not, she craved him. Needed him to ease the ache he’d created. To guide her across the unfamiliar terrain. “I’m not changing my mind. Not after that.”

  A new and fascinating expression crossed his face. One of intrigue and wonder tempered by the indolence of his release. “My mate likes her dirty words and her visuals. I think I’m officially the luckiest man alive.” He ran his knuckle along her jawline then traced her lower lip with his thumb. “I need to clean up. While I do, you’re going to lay right here and relax. No thinking. No doing. Just being. Okay?”

  “Okay.” It slipped out soft and easy. Though, everything inside her railed at the idea of severing their closeness even for a moment.

  He grinned as though he’d been privy to her thoughts, sat up and pressed
his lips to hers. “You’re pretty agreeable when you’re worked up. I’ll have to remember that.”

  Before she could wrangle up some witty or sassy retort, he gave her another quick kiss, rolled off the bed and padded to the bathroom.

  She dropped to her back on the bed and let out a frustrated huff, the reality of where they were headed and the apprehensive feelings that went with it tangling with a clawing need for more. To dive in headfirst and fully immerse herself in all that was Tate and the exquisite sensations he created.

  No thinking. No doing. Just being.

  The soft whoosh of water from the bathroom blended with Tate’s quiet movements. She’d overthought a lot of things in her life. Had taken subtle looks and idle comments made by other people and drawn ridiculous conclusions. Had filled in the blanks with all manner of self-judgment and fear and let those evaluations rule her life.

  Maybe Tate was right. Maybe the key to growing with him was just to let go. To be honest about what she was feeling and what she wanted and simply be present. To say what felt good and own her desires.

  The bathroom light flicked off and her heart lurched.

  Tate strolled back into view and, just like that, her mind quieted. Stilled and steadied itself under his watchful gaze. Focused solely on him.

  And oh, what a sight he was. His blond hair loose with those easy waves that made him look like a surfer god. His lean yet muscled body poised beside the bed and his tanned skin perfectly highlighted in the soft glow of the lamp.

  He cocked his head and studied her. “Light on or off?”

  She wanted to be brave. Wanted to leave it on and share with him what he’d given her, but she also wanted to relax. To give her tentative courage a solid footing.

  Say what feels good.

  Own it.

  “Off.”

  He smiled like he’d expected as much and turned it off without a beat of hesitation.

  Darkness consumed them, broken only by the soft moonlight shafting through huge windows and the shadowed outline of the lake and trees beyond. The bed dipped and the soft swoosh of Tate moving against the comforter filled the silence. His earthy scent blanketed her a second before his weight and his heat.