couldn’t be sure she’d seen it. Kieran’s mouth returned to her earlobe. He bit her again, then licked where he’d bitten.
“If you want me switched off, you have to say.” His words were soft, rumbling. “But I like being switched on with you, Felice.” He brought his other arm around her, resting it across her breasts while he smoothed her hair from her face with his big hand.
It’s not bad from my side either , Felice told herself, then her thoughts began to blur from tiredness, and Kieran.
*** *** ***
I don’t think you’re nothing .
The words had startled Kieran—and so did the conviction with which Felice said them. Kieran was a pleasure slave, nothing more. The scientists at DNAmo would have been happy if he’d had the blank mind of a robot. Felice was the first person in his life who didn’t automatically assume he was good for nothing but sex.
Then Felice’s presence began to blot out the bad memories, his desire for her erasing all but the immediate moment.
Kieran pressed a kiss to her cheekbone, then to the soft, smooth skin of her cheek. She smelled good—sweet spice, the clean scent from her shower, and the tang of a woman aroused.
Kieran licked her cheek before he took his kisses to the base of her neck, tugging her skin with his teeth. Felice made a soft sound, and the scent of her excitement escalated.
If he dipped his fingers between her legs, he’d find her wet. Kieran deliberately didn’t, letting her long for his touch. Touching would satisfy her too quickly, and he wanted her to crave it.
The moisture would start dripping down her thighs, making her shake. She’d move, needing release, and still, Kieran would force her to wait.
He kissed the top of her spine, then drew his tongue down her back, lowering himself to his knees as he went. He came to rest behind her, kneeling on the bathroom’s hard floor, pressing kisses to the small of her back, licking there.
Felice made a noise of longing. Kieran scented her need even more, and tucked a kiss between her warm, clean buttocks.
She gasped. “What are you doing?”
Kieran licked between her cheeks, letting his tongue dart against her back opening. “Tasting you,” he said. “Finding out about you.”
She shivered as his breath brushed her. Kieran withdrew and gently turned her to face him. He smiled, liking the view, and kissed her abdomen.
Her hair between her legs was a wisp of black, glistening and lovely. Many Shareem liked their women shaved, but Kieran preferred the hair to remain, for the woman to be as the gods had made her.
He was right—Felice was wet, very wet for him. Kieran wanted to drink her, but he’d save it. His skill was to give a woman the very best in pleasure, which might mean he drove her wild with anticipation. He’d made women come without even touching them.
“You want to have sex with me?” Felice whispered. It wasn’t an invitation—she was requesting information.
“ You want to,” Kieran said.
Who was he kidding? Kieran’s cock was pounding. He wanted to lay her down and drive into her, never mind bondage play.
Completely went against his genetic programming. Kieran should be able to hold himself back, to order the woman to do whatever he wanted. He might make her stroke herself until she came, or not allow her to wear clothes—or make her wear certain clothes—until she was coming again and again, releasing harder than she ever had or would after. Kieran might never actually enter her.
Crazy. He’d die if he didn’t fulfill himself with Felice.
“What are you doing to me?” Felice choked out.
“What you need.” Kieran let his fingers drift over her pussy. One finger brushed her damp hair and tickled very near her clit, but not quite. She drew in a breath of both anticipation and disappointment.
“Not yet,” Kieran said. “You’re wet and ready.” Kieran drew his fingers along the damp of her inner thighs. “But not yet.”
“Why? I’ve had sex before.
“If you want me switched off, you have to say.” His words were soft, rumbling. “But I like being switched on with you, Felice.” He brought his other arm around her, resting it across her breasts while he smoothed her hair from her face with his big hand.
It’s not bad from my side either , Felice told herself, then her thoughts began to blur from tiredness, and Kieran.
*** *** ***
I don’t think you’re nothing .
The words had startled Kieran—and so did the conviction with which Felice said them. Kieran was a pleasure slave, nothing more. The scientists at DNAmo would have been happy if he’d had the blank mind of a robot. Felice was the first person in his life who didn’t automatically assume he was good for nothing but sex.
Then Felice’s presence began to blot out the bad memories, his desire for her erasing all but the immediate moment.
Kieran pressed a kiss to her cheekbone, then to the soft, smooth skin of her cheek. She smelled good—sweet spice, the clean scent from her shower, and the tang of a woman aroused.
Kieran licked her cheek before he took his kisses to the base of her neck, tugging her skin with his teeth. Felice made a soft sound, and the scent of her excitement escalated.
If he dipped his fingers between her legs, he’d find her wet. Kieran deliberately didn’t, letting her long for his touch. Touching would satisfy her too quickly, and he wanted her to crave it.
The moisture would start dripping down her thighs, making her shake. She’d move, needing release, and still, Kieran would force her to wait.
He kissed the top of her spine, then drew his tongue down her back, lowering himself to his knees as he went. He came to rest behind her, kneeling on the bathroom’s hard floor, pressing kisses to the small of her back, licking there.
Felice made a noise of longing. Kieran scented her need even more, and tucked a kiss between her warm, clean buttocks.
She gasped. “What are you doing?”
Kieran licked between her cheeks, letting his tongue dart against her back opening. “Tasting you,” he said. “Finding out about you.”
She shivered as his breath brushed her. Kieran withdrew and gently turned her to face him. He smiled, liking the view, and kissed her abdomen.
Her hair between her legs was a wisp of black, glistening and lovely. Many Shareem liked their women shaved, but Kieran preferred the hair to remain, for the woman to be as the gods had made her.
He was right—Felice was wet, very wet for him. Kieran wanted to drink her, but he’d save it. His skill was to give a woman the very best in pleasure, which might mean he drove her wild with anticipation. He’d made women come without even touching them.
“You want to have sex with me?” Felice whispered. It wasn’t an invitation—she was requesting information.
“ You want to,” Kieran said.
Who was he kidding? Kieran’s cock was pounding. He wanted to lay her down and drive into her, never mind bondage play.
Completely went against his genetic programming. Kieran should be able to hold himself back, to order the woman to do whatever he wanted. He might make her stroke herself until she came, or not allow her to wear clothes—or make her wear certain clothes—until she was coming again and again, releasing harder than she ever had or would after. Kieran might never actually enter her.
Crazy. He’d die if he didn’t fulfill himself with Felice.
“What are you doing to me?” Felice choked out.
“What you need.” Kieran let his fingers drift over her pussy. One finger brushed her damp hair and tickled very near her clit, but not quite. She drew in a breath of both anticipation and disappointment.
“Not yet,” Kieran said. “You’re wet and ready.” Kieran drew his fingers along the damp of her inner thighs. “But not yet.”
“Why? I’ve had sex before.
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