The sudden increase of splashing water blared in his sensitive ears, bombarding him with vivid images, all along the lines of a brand new concept called sexually explicit. He'd never once contemplated such things, and damn, it was like a tsunami wave of discover it entirely and right now.
Lyght paid attention to his body's reaction again. There was a wall of some sort, it seemed, standing between his being and something he couldn't explain. It was what needed discovering, he realized. Her. She was the anomaly. Uncharted territory waiting for him to take possession, to explore and conquer.
Right up his alley.
The soft rustle of cotton on skin as she dried off sent his imagination into hyper drive. She winced in pain and his body tensed, followed by an explosion of reckless fury that heated his diamond mood to pitch black. A reminder of the unfinished business he had with the bastards who hurt her.
The relief to her injuries from the hot water quickly faded and she moved slowly toward the bathroom door and Lyght realized she hurt everywhere. Eavesdropping may not be polite, but he hardly gave a damn. He flew up from the couch the instant her hand touched the door knob to come out.
"Oh!" She jerked back when she found him leaning there.
"I didn't mean to startle you." Lyght touched her cheek, giving her a dose of peace.
"It's okay." But her heart rate shot up, along with her body temperature. Was she ill? In need of comfort? No doubt.
He stepped close and drew her into his arms, wrapping her in a soft, secure embrace. "You're safe with me." He whispered the words into her ear.
Rather than abating, her symptoms continued to worsen.
He eased her back a bit to examine her more closely. The first glimpse at her eyes made him feel like an idiot. He was exciting her. Wow. Bloody hell. She was damn sensitive, wasn't she? It didn't seem so much physical arousal as it was emotional. "I'm sorry," he said, "I'm just…" He brushed her cheek with the backs of his fingers, the urge to revisit the silky texture unstoppable. "…wanting to help." And doing a lousy job.
She nodded and he felt her fighting to bring her emotions under control. He stepped back, giving her space, but she suddenly looked worried and unsure.
Bloody hell. He preferred the other reaction and pulled her back into his arms.
Her excitement returned, and he smiled, brushing his lips against her forehead. She gasped into his neck and his skin tingled. Perhaps it was from the guilt of enjoying her sweet distress. But it was better than her being afraid, or thinking of the shit she'd gone through. The distraction was rather…awe-inspiring actually.
She gave in to the need for comfort and relaxed into him, even put her arms around his waist. It wasn't just comfort she wanted, but his comfort. Every one of her desires he sensed in that moment had his name branded on it. He stroked the back of her head, making a soft sound that seemed as if it should soothe her.
Lyght froze as an avalanche of pent up horror barreled through her at breakneck speeds. Shit, shit. Oh shit. Everybody was asleep but what headed to the surface of this woman would wake the bloody dead.
Distract her!
He grasped her face in his hands and pressed a soft kiss against her lips. The rush of madness inside her came to a screaming halt as she became concerned with only one thing: him.
Lyght angled his head for the perfect mesh of their lips, trying to restrain his eagerness to experience every bit of her. His utter relief over the averted crisis very quickly evolved into something else. His plan to distract her proved as effective on him as on her.
Her softness became a point of extreme fascination, and her taste a puzzle he needed to work out. He stroked along her cheek with one finger, his emotions suspended in the unexpected rapture of this kiss.
Her lips parted and she gasped right in his mouth, waking a strange hunger in him. Buried instinct roared to the surface ready to burst eagerly forth. Sudden desperation moved his hands to her waist and pressed into the soft resilience there.
The slim part of him that retained some semblance of control over the intense need willed his mind not to dissolve the rough terrycloth that prevented him from discovering answers to questions. Were all her secrets as soft as her lips? He wagered yes, tormented with proving it.
He pulled her to the line of his body, needing to feel her with every part of himself. His heart raced when he identified what threatened to ravage his willpower. The instinct… No, it was need. The need to…bond.
Before he could celebrate his wisdom over it, her tongue entered his mouth and met his, sending a jolt of something through him, something overpowering and compelling. She was hungry, starving and desperate for something she seemed to think he should give.