Whispers in the Dark - Maya Banks [74]
“Undress for me,” she said, her voice as silky as her skin. “I want to see you. You have such a beautiful body.”
He shook as he stood. He’d never felt so unsteady on his feet. Her words soaked into the darkest parts of his soul, bringing light that chased the shadows away.
He’d come home feeling ugly. Tarnished. Not the same man who’d left. He felt…dirty. Unworthy. Not just on the surface. The scars were the tangible results of his shame. But deeper, below those scars, lay the self-loathing and doubt. But with Shea, he felt…whole. He didn’t feel the shame that so frequently pulled at him. Or the frustration over the anxiety and panic that still plagued him at the most unexpected times.
With her, he felt like he was on top of the fucking world. Like he was her damn hero. Like he mattered.
He loved her for that. God, yes, he loved her, and if that didn’t fuck everything up, he didn’t know what did.
“What are you thinking?” she asked quietly.
He caught her gaze, saw that she was staring up at him intently. It puzzled him because she always seemed so in tune with his thoughts. She resided in his mind as well as his heart, and yet she stared at him as if she truly didn’t know the direction of his thoughts. Hell, maybe they were too scattered for even her to sort out.
“I…” No, he couldn’t tell her that yet. He’d sound as crazy as everyone thought he was.
He could think it. He could act on it. But saying it aloud made him feel so goddamn vulnerable. Shaken. And scared. Hell yes, scared. Not things he wanted to experience again.
Instead he began to undress, his gaze holding hers. He may not be able to say the words, but he could tell her with his eyes. His hands. His mouth and his body. He wasn’t worth a damn with words anyway. He much preferred action.
He pulled his shirt off first and tossed it across the room. He fumbled with his fly next, his fingers clumsily glancing off the button. He bent as he rolled the denim down and picked up one leg and then the other to kick out of the jeans.
When he straightened, the hunger in her gaze gave him a jolt. She boldly stared, caressing as though she were physically touching him. No inch of his body was spared her scrutiny, but this time he didn’t shy away. He didn’t try to hide from her.
There was no revulsion in her eyes, only lust. Desire. And something deeper that he didn’t dare speculate on.
She stepped closer so their bodies touched. Then she placed her palms over his chest and rubbed lightly up to his shoulders and then down his arms, her fingers glancing over the ridges of his muscles.
She took another step, forcing him to back up until he bumped the edge of the bed. She put her hand in the center of his chest and pushed him just hard enough that he fell back on the bed, his hands going behind him to brace himself so that he sat half reclined, his legs hanging off the mattress.
Her lips quirked up into a tiny smile that sent shivers racing down his spine. And then she crawled onto the bed like a feline on the prowl, straddling his hips in all her naked glory.
“I had in mind for you to touch me. For you to comfort me. To make me feel safe. I was going to make you do all the work. But I’ve changed my mind.”
His eyebrows went up at that.
She crawled up over his body until her weight forced his hands away and he fell back onto the bed so that he lay flat on his back.
“I’ve decided that I’m going to do the touching. And the comforting. I’m going to make love to you, Nathan. Any objections?”
“Oh, hell no,” he breathed.
She leaned down and kissed the hollow of his chest. Her tongue swept out and then traced a path up to his neck. She nibbled and nipped, her teeth grazing where his pulse was about to pop right out of his neck. Then she moved up to suck gently at his ear.
He was already leaking. He could feel the sticky dampness on his cock. This woman just did it for him. All she had to do was look