I slid my fingers through his hair, tugging when he lifted his head. I started to protest, but he was kissing his way down my throat, over the edge of my cardigan, down the little buttons shaped like flowers, and lower still, until I couldn’t keep ahold of his head. Or really keep track of where he was heading.
Daemon sat back on his haunches, going for my boots. He tugged one off, pitching it over his shoulder. It bounced off the wall with a soft thud. “What are these made of? Rabbit skin?”
“What?” I giggled. “No. They’re faux sheepskin.”
“They’re so soft.” He got the other one off and that too hit the wall. My socks were next. He kissed the top of my foot, and I jerked. “Not as soft as this, though.” Grinning, he lifted his head. “Love the tights, by the way.”
“Yeah?” My gaze fixed on the ceiling, but I really wasn’t seeing a damn thing. Not when his hands moved up my calves. “Is it…because they’re red?”
“That.” I felt his cheek on my knee, and my hands fluttered to the bed. “And because they’re so thin. And hot, but you already know that.”
Hot? I felt hot. His hands traveled up my outer thighs, under the denim skirt, pushing the material up and up. I bit down on my lip, hard enough that a metallic taste sprung into my mouth. The material really was thin, a fragile almost nonexistent barrier between his skin and mine. I could feel every touch, and even the slightest was like a thousand volts of electricity.
“Hmm?” I fisted the covers.
“Just making sure you’re still with me.” He kissed the side of my leg, right above my knee. “Don’t want you falling asleep or anything.”
Like sleep was possible. Ever.
His eyes flared. “You know what. Give me two minutes. That’s all I need.”
“Whatever,” I said. “What are you going to do with the leftover eighteen minutes?”
I started to laugh, but his fingers found the band along the top of my tights, and he pulled them down, cursing when they got tangled at my feet.
“Need help?” I offered, voice shaking.
“Got it,” he muttered, balling them up. They too went flying somewhere.
Things were going further than they had before. I was nervous, but I didn’t want to stop. I was too curious, and I trusted him irrevocably. And then there was nothing separating his hands from my skin or his lips and I stopped thinking, wasn’t capable of forming any coherent thought. There was just him and the crazy rush of sensations he pulled forth, drew from me like an artist rendering some kind of masterpiece. Then I wasn’t even me anymore, because my body couldn’t shake that much. Like a balloon being pulled down and then released, I was floating and there was a soft whitish glow slipping over the walls that wasn’t coming off Daemon.
When I came back down, Daemon’s eyes were brilliant diamonds. He looked sort of awed, which I found strange, because he awed me.
“You glowed a little,” he said, rising up. “I’ve only seen you do that once.”
I knew the night, but I didn’t want to think about that right now. I was happy where I was floating. It was good—great, even, and I really couldn’t talk. My brain was mush. I had no idea that could be like that. Heck, I was shocked it even happened. I felt like I needed to say thank you or something.
The smile he gave me was part male pride and arrogance, like he knew he’d scrambled my brain. He stretched out beside me, tugging me close to him. He lowered his head, kissing me softly, deeply.
“Wasn’t even two minutes,” he said. “Told you.”
My heart was somewhere in my throat. “You were right.”
Sometime later, I tried to stretch and when I spoke, my voice was muffled against his chest. “I can’t move.”
His laugh rumbled through me as he loosened his embrace. “This is how we snuggle.”
“I really should head next door soon.” I yawned, not wanting to leave. I was so relaxed I couldn’t feel my toes. “Mom will be home soon.”
“Do you have to leave now?”
I shook my head. We had maybe an hour. I wanted to make her dinner, so another thirty or forty minutes tops. Daemon placed a finger on my chin and lifted it. “What?” I asked.
His eyes searched mine. “I wanted to talk before you leave.”
Anxiety blossomed low. “About what?”
“Sunday,” he said, and my anxiety turned darker. “I know you feel like you got us into this, but you know you didn’t, right?”
“Daemon…” I so knew where this conversation was heading. “We are at this point because of the decisions I—”
“We,” he corrected gently. “Decisions we made.”
“If I hadn’t trained with Blake and had listened to you, we wouldn’t be here. Adam would be alive. Dee wouldn’t hate my guts. Will wouldn’t be running around doing God knows what.” I squeezed my eyes shut. “I could go on and on. You get my drift.”
“And if you hadn’t made any of those decisions, we wouldn’t have Dawson back. It was kind of a stupid-smart move.”
I laughed drily. “There’s that.”
“You can’t carry this guilt with you, Kat.” The bed moved as he rose up on one elbow. “You’ll end up like me.”
I peeked at him. “What? An extremely tall and douchey alien?”