He let his tongue glide slowly, firm but gentle, teasing the mouth of her pussy where the cruel metal rod had been. Each lap soothed and coated her inner walls with the Bacillus-rich solvent and healing agent now coursing through his system. But to tell the truth, he could barely focus on the science. His entire being was consumed by the taste of her.
Sweet…salty…creamy.
Addictive.
Brandt groaned softly to himself.
Gods, he fucking loved this—loved going down on her. He loved her flavor…her scent…the soft little cries she made when he teased her clit. He could happily live there between her thighs and never come up for air.
The hunger inside him grew sharper. A deep, primal need stirred inside him—the need passed down from generations of Kindred males—the hunger to worship their female with their mouths until she moaned his name and begged for more. He had thought it dead in him since he’d lost his wife. But now it burned hot and alive, consuming him with need and pleasure.
Brandt gave in to it completely.
With a low growl, he called on the trace of L’ione blood in his ancestry, letting his tongue extend, lengthen, and swell. Alexandra gasped as he slid deep inside her, filling her completely. He worked it slowly at first, pulsing and stretching her tender walls, caressing every inch, healing her deeply, as he had promised.
Her back arched, her little hands clutched at the sheets.
“Oh! Oh, Brandt!”
Not “Dr. Brandt” but just “Brandt”—he liked that, he decided. No, loved it—loved that Alexandra felt so free with him.
He pushed deeper, making his tongue bigger, massaging her from within. Gods, the slick heat of her was driving him insane. His cock strained against his trousers, aching to be inside her instead of his tongue.
But this was better—this was what she needed. His tongue stroked inside her until he felt her body begin to soften…relax…heal.
Finally, reluctantly, he pulled free, his tongue shrinking back to its normal size. Her soft pussy was glistening with her juices, healed and whole again.
He should have stopped there—he knew she was well. But when he looked up, panting, his mouth wet with her juices, her flushed cheeks and glassy eyes told him something else. She was close. She needed more.
“You’re all healed now, little Lexi,” he murmured hoarsely.
“Oh…am I?” she whispered. Her cheeks were red, her chest heaving. Disappointment flickered across her face.
He saw it at once—he felt it. His lips curved in a slow, knowing smile.
“Unless…there’s another spot where you’re hurting?”
Her teeth nibbled her bottom lip, shy and uncertain.
“Actually…there is,” she said at last.
“Where?” His voice dropped to a growl. “Can you show me?”
She looked like she wanted to—but her hand hovered, too shy, too hesitant.
Brandt leaned forward, caught one of her trembling hands, and pressed it to his head.
“What about this? You guide me. Put me where you need me and let me heal you there.”
Her breath caught. Slowly, she nodded.
“All right.”
“Good. Then guide me, sweetheart.”
Her small fingers tightened in his hair. Gods, he loved that—loved the control she didn’t even know she had over him. Then she dragged him upward, guiding his mouth until it hovered over the hot little bud of her clit.
“There—right there!” she moaned breathlessly. “Please, Brandt—heal me!”