Kiss of Midnight_ A Midnight Breed Novel - Lara Adrian [998]
Brock’s big hands drifted to her shoulders, then made a slow journey over her breasts. Through the thin cotton knit of her shirt, her nipples peaked, hard and aching, alive with sensation as he kneaded each heavy mound. Jenna moaned, wanting to feel more of his touch. She caught his hand in hers and guided him up under the loose hem of her top. He didn’t require any more direction than that. In less than a second, he’d unfastened the front clasp of her bra and covered her bare flesh with his heated palm.
He teased the diamond-hard bud as he caressed her. “Is that better?” he murmured just below her ear. “Tell me if you like it.”
“God … yes.” It felt so good, she could hardly form words.
Jenna sucked in a hiss of pleasure, tipping her head back as the coil of sensation twisted tighter in her core. He kept touching her, kept kissing her and caressing her, as he slowly removed her shirt. He took equal care with her loosened bra, sliding the thin straps off her shoulders, then down her arms. Suddenly she was standing before him, naked from the waist up. The instinct to cover herself—to hide the scars that riddled her torso from the accident and the one on her abdomen that was a daily reminder of Libby’s difficult birth—flared swiftly, but only for an instant.
Only in the time it took for her to glance up and meet Brock’s gaze.
“You’re beautiful,” he said, gently taking her hands in his and drawing them away from her body before she had the chance to feel awkward or embarrassed by his praise or his open observation of her.
She had never felt particularly beautiful. Confident and capable, physically fit and strong. Those were words she understood and could accept. Words that had carried her through most of her thirty-three years of life, even through her marriage. But beautiful? It felt as alien to her as the odd language she’d heard herself speaking on the infirmary video recording yesterday.
Brock, on the other hand, was beautiful. Although that seemed an admittedly odd way to describe the dark force of nature that stood before her now.
Every speck of velvety brown color in his eyes was gone, devoured by the glow of bright amber that warmed her cheeks like an open flame. His pupils had thinned to narrow slivers, and his lean cheeks were now taut and more angular, his flawless dark skin stretched tight across his bones, setting off the astonishing appearance of his long, deadly sharp fangs.
Those searing eyes locked on her, he pulled off his T-shirt and let it fall to the floor beside hers. His chest was incredible, a massive wall of perfectly formed muscle covered in an intricate pattern of pulsing glyphs. She couldn’t resist touching his smooth skin, just to see if it felt as satiny against her fingertips as it looked to her eyes. It was even softer than she’d guessed, but the sheer, inhuman strength beneath it was unmistakable.
Brock looked every bit as lethal as he had when he’d come to save her in the city, except instead of the cold malice that had rolled off him in waves that night, now he vibrated with something equally aggressive and intense: desire. All of it centered on her.
“You are … damn, Jenna,” he rasped, tracing the line of her shoulder, then circling the dusky rose tip of her breast. “You have no idea just how lovely you are, do you?”
She didn’t answer him, didn’t really know how. Instead, she moved closer and brought his mouth down to hers in another scorching kiss. Skin against skin, her breasts crushed against the bulky slabs of his chest, Jenna nearly combusted with need. Her heart was hammering, breath racing, as Brock reached down and unfastened the button and zipper fly of her jeans. She caught her lip with her teeth