“I do not,” I agree. “You didn’t bring me any.”
“Do they ache? Shall I rub them for you?” His gaze flicks to mine, and that shy-yet-flirty look returns to his face. It’s an odd thing on him because he’s so big and fierce looking, but it melts my heart. Just a little.
I lift a foot, indicating that he, in fact, can massage my feet if he feels so inclined.
It’s probably a mistake. The moment one big hand wraps around my much smaller foot, I bite back a gasp. I’ve never had a foot thing before, but his touch feels positively erotic. I say nothing at all as he calmly and thoroughly begins to knead and rub my sole until I’m absolute putty in his hands. “Five toes,” he murmurs at some point, amused. “All of them small.”
“That’s right.” I try to keep my voice light and airy and I fail. Oh, I fail. I sound like I want to sex the hell out of the guy right now.
I wait for him to say more, but he finishes with one foot, rests it on his thigh (really big, thick thigh) and then gets to work on the other one. I erupt in giggles when he brushes a finger between my toes, and he smiles even as he bends over his task. “Ticklish.”
“I am, yes.” I am also getting really freaking turned on. Maybe it’s that he’s so huge and yet so devoted to taking care of me. Maybe it’s the strength I see in his arms that he uses to protect me instead of against me. Maybe it’s going to be resonance.
Whatever it is, when he finally puts my foot down, I’m disappointed. I curl my toes, feeling better, and tap my chin in thanks.
“You should get some sleep. I do not know how long we will be able to stay here.” Rem’eb casts a worried look down the long, winding tunnel.
I don’t feel quite like sleeping just yet, though. I lie down, still dressed in the same breast band and short skirt I was stolen in, and then pat the mat next to me, inviting him again to join me.
He doesn’t even hesitate this time. Rem’eb lies down at my side, facing me.
I smile at him, studying his face. The ruddy, thick fur that grows around his face like a lion’s mane and held back by decorative beads. The intelligent eyes that watch me with rapt devotion. His features are blunter, harder than a human’s, but they work for him. I can’t imagine him with delicate cheekbones. Not when he’s got slashing planes that define his face so sharply. Reaching out, I trace a fingertip along one heavy brow. “I wish we could have a real conversation.”
“I would give anything to stay on the surface with you,” he says suddenly.
“Oh?”
“Once I get you to safety, we must part. But I wish…”
I run my finger down his nose, learning its shape. There’s a bump on the bridge, which I never even noticed until now. “You wish what?”
“I wish you were my mate,” he murmurs. “A foolish wish, but one that I cannot seem to let go of.”
“You could stay,” I offer, my voice a mere whisper. I move to his jaw, tracing my finger along it as I slide a little bit closer. “Tia and Rem’eb, together forever and all that jazz. Conquering the world…or just having a nice life. No big deal.”
He hesitates and then reaches out to stroke my bare arm. It’s not the same as my light touches—his hand is huge and it’s a bit like being delicately stroked by someone wearing a catcher’s glove. But I still love it. I love the size of his hands and the calluses on them as they dance over my skin. I love the warmth of his fingers against me. I love how careful he’s being and how he looks at me as if I’m a fragile butterfly.
“My father is not well,” Rem’eb confesses. “He falls easily into sadness and will not leave his bed some days. And my people are fractured. They put up with much, hoping that when I take the chief’s seat, I will change things. I am my father’s only heir, the last of our line. I am responsible for their safety.
“If I am gone, I do not know who he would pass the chieftainship to. And I worry it would be someone that would destroy those of us who are left. So even though I am selfish and want to stay with you, I cannot.” His thumb strokes over my shoulder, even as another hand grazes my knee, and I briefly (and naughtily) wonder what it’d be like if he used all four of those big hands on me. “I do not even care what the surface looks like. I just want to stay at your side. Learn more about you.”
Oh. His words make me ache. I want that, too. I hate that we won’t get it. Not with how things are.
I take his hand in mine and guide it over my heart. “But what if we resonate? We’re both feeling…something.”
His gaze drops to my chest, to where I hold his hand. It’s between my breasts, snuggled against my cleavage. Was that intentional? Probably. Do I regret it? Not in the slightest.
Very slowly, I guide his hand to the side, toward my nipple.
Rem’eb’s gaze meets mine again, just as his hand clasps over my breast.
I gasp, heat flooding through me. With a whimper, I put a hand into his thick mane and pull him forward, locking his mouth against mine. He groans, and then we’re kissing furiously, his mouth slanting over mine with hunger. I slide onto my back and he moves over me, gripping and kneading my breast. His thumb skates over my nipple through the leather and I whimper with pleasure, kissing him harder.
My whimper turns into a moan when he flicks the leather down and bares my breast so he can tease my nipple properly. I’ve never felt such hunger or need through my body. I’ve kissed and fooled around in the past, but it never made me feel like I’d die if I didn’t get more in the next moment. Right now? I feel very much like the world will end if he doesn’t put his mouth on my aching nipple.
“Please, Rem’eb,” I whisper between kisses. “God, I want you.”
He licks at my lower lip expertly and continues to stroke and tease the tip of my breast, playing with it until the nipple is taut and aching. I moan, steering his head down even as I surge upward, and practically shove my tit into his mouth.