I pull her closer, one hand sinking into the thick silk of her hair, the other splayed against the small of her back. I can feel the heat of her through the thin cotton of her shirt.
Then she moves, a sudden, graceful shift of her body that steals my breath. She swings a leg over my hips, straddling me. I gasp, a sharp intake of air, more from surprise than the dull throb it sends through my wounded side.
I didn't expect this. Not now. But the dazed look in her eyes isn't from sleep anymore. It's pure, undiluted lust. And god, I am so, so for it.
She's careful, so careful, of my injury, placing her weight on her knees on either side of my thighs. Her hands go to the hem of her t-shirt. In one fluid motion, she pulls it up and over her head, tossing it aside without a care.
My mouth goes dry.
