Fever Read Online Free PDF

forced her eyelids open enough to see his hand playing between her legs. The vision was blisteringly erotic. The fire in her body all radiated from her core. If he could ease her suffering there, she’d do anything.
    Anything.
    “Here?” he asked.
    Her breath caught when the terrycloth pressed directly against her clit.
    “Or here?”
    A little cry left the back of her throat when his fingers burrowed between her swollen lips and found her opening.
    “Or maybe there?”
    Her hips left the bed entirely until her weight was balanced on her shoulder blades and her heels. He’d pushed the terrycloth up inside her using not one, but two fingers. His hands were big, but the added bulk of the washcloth made him feel huge. His fingers squirmed deeper and deeper until they were lodged inside her.
    Then they began to twist.
    “Oh, God!” Delia’s body contorted, still balanced mid-air, as his devilish fingers curled inside her.
    He wasn’t teasing her anymore.
    “Hurry,” she begged.
    Flames danced inside her belly, and tears pressed at her eyes. The need was so fervent, it was almost cruel. She cried out loudly when his bare thumb found her clit. Just a few nudges had her spiraling out of control.
    “Oh, oh!”
    She caught his thigh, which was pressed hard against her hip. Her fingers dug into the taut muscles as the first wave hit her. His fingers pumped in and out until her pussy clenched down on him like a vise. Even then, his thumb played mercilessly with her clitoris.
    Her head twisted back and forth on the pillow. He drew out her pleasure, holding her at the peak until he finally let her go over. At last, she fell back against the bed.
    He gently brushed her hair away from her face, but she felt his hand shake. “Sleep,” he ordered.
    Delia could feel the tension in him, but darkness pulled at her. She didn’t want to leave him. Not now. Not just when she’d realized how much time she’d wasted being timid. Unfortunately, fatigue wouldn’t let her indulge any further. It overwhelmed her. For the first time in hours, the relentless heat had been banked. Her body needed sleep to fight the demon inside her.
    “Let go,” he whispered.
    He’d promised he’d be here when she awoke. Feeling safe and cared for, she let herself slip away.
    * * * * *
    “She’s burning up, Doc. I don’t know if the medication is doing its job or not.”
    Delia snuggled into her pillow and wished for quiet. She didn’t want to wake up. Not yet. Her sleep had been fitful. Too light and full of dreams. Dreams of fire. Dreams of demons. Dreams of sex.
    She kicked at the covers that had once again found their way on top of her. His doing, no doubt. She tried to blot out the soft conversation on the other side of the room, but she was too attuned to his voice. It invaded the recesses of her consciousness. Made her take notice.
    “Last time she took it? About two hours ago.”
    She drifted in and out, catching only bits and pieces of the discussion that was surely about her. Two hours? She felt like she’d been asleep for two minutes.
    “Hold on. Let me look.” There was a short pause as his footsteps crossed the room to the bathroom. Drawers opened and closed. “Yeah, here’s one.”
    She rolled away from all the noise. Her senses were honed to too sharp of a point. He was too loud. The light beside the bed was too bright. Her skin was too raw.
    The damnable heat was back.
    Delia felt her distress return. She’d thought they’d beaten it, but there it was smoldering deep down inside her. Why wouldn’t it leave her alone?
    The muffled voice didn’t go away. “All right. Give me a minute.”
    She heard the phone settle onto the nightstand, and she rolled away, onto her stomach.
    “No, no,” he murmured. “Look at me.”
    She looked at her caretaker blearily when his hand settled on her back. He shouldn’t touch her. Not now. Things happened when he touched her. Wonderful, scary, exhausting things.
    “Shh,” he crooned.