Lover Unleashed - J. R. Ward [137]
“Who put you in jail?”
“My mother. But the imprisonment was only partially because he was dead. Sometimes I believe it was more her colossal disappointment in me.” She wiped her face quickly and rubbed the wetness away. “But enough of this. Enough of . . . all of it. Go now . . . I shall speak to the king and send you off. Good-bye, Manuel.”
Rather than waiting for him to respond, she headed off once more—
“Yes, I want you.”
Payne stopped, and then looked over her shoulder again. After a moment, she said, “You are a fine healer and you have done your job, as you so aptly pointed out. We have no further cause to speak.”
When she resumed walking, his footsteps approached fast and he caught her, wheeling her around. “If I didn’t keep my pants on, I couldn’t have kept myself out of you.”
“Really.”
“Give me your hand.”
Without looking, she held one unto him. “Why ever for—”
He moved fast, putting her palm between his legs, and pressing her into the hot, hard length at his hips. “You’re right.” He moved against her, his pelvis undulating, the arousal pushing against her palm as he started to breathe deeply. “Even as I tried to tell myself otherwise, I knew that if I got naked, you were going to stay a virgin only long enough for me to get you on your back. Not romantic, but really, totally fucking true.”
As her lips parted, his eyes dropped to her mouth and he growled, “You can feel the truth, can’t you. It’s in your goddamn hand.”
“Do you not care about what I did . . .”
“You mean with your father?” He stopped the rubbing and frowned. “No. To be clear, I’m a lex talionis kind of guy. Your brother could easily have died from those wounds—I don’t care how fast you people heal. But more to the point, I’m willing to bet that father/son bonding moment fucked his head up for the rest of his life—so yeah, I don’t have a problem with what you did.”
Retaliatory justice, she thought as his words sank in.
Tightening her hold on him, she resumed what he had stopped, tracing up and down his sex, stroking. “I am glad you feel this way.”
And wasn’t that true on a lot of levels: His erection was delicious, so hard and blunt at the tip. She wanted to explore him as he had her . . . with her fingers . . . her mouth . . . her tongue. . . .
Manuel’s eyes briefly rolled back into his head as he gritted his teeth. “But . . . your brother’s still right.”
“Is he . . .” She leaned in and licked at his lips. “Are you sure?”
When she drew back, there was a sizzling moment as their eyes met . . . and then, with a growl, he spun her around and pushed her into the wall.
“Be careful,” he growled.
“Why.” She dipped her lips to his neck and slowly, inexorably dragged one fang up over his jugular.
“Oh . . . fuck . . .” With a desperate curse, he locked his hand on hers, holding her palm in place at his hips, obviously trying to refocus. “Listen to me. As good as this is between us . . .” He swallowed hard. “As good . . . Shit, look, your brother knows what’s doing—I can’t take care of you properly and—”
“I can take care of myself.” She pressed her mouth to his, and she knew she had him when his pelvis began to push forward and ease back again: He may have halted her hand, but his body was more than making up the slack on the friction front.
“Fucking hell,” he groaned, “do you want me to come right here?”
“Yes, I do. I want to know what it is like.”
More kissing. And even though he was the one gripping her and pinning her against the wall, she was the aggressor.
Manuel pulled back, but only, it seemed, upon a great struggle within himself. After taking a number of deep breaths, he said, “You asked me whether I would stay if I could? In a heartbeat. You are beautiful and sexy and I don’t know what the hell your mother or anyone else is doing comparing you to anything or anybody. Nothing