by Terra Wolf
To her surprise, he tipped up her chin with the hand of his good arm, locking eyes with her. “I don’t want to lose you either, Zinsa.” A deep sigh escaped him, and he released his hold. “Seems inevitable though.”
She wanted to pursue the subject, but it was clear he didn’t have the strength to discuss the matter thoroughly. He was already fading, and by the time she gave him an injection to help him rest and ease the pain, he would be out for hours. She would just have to wait until he woke up to assess his condition. If he was stronger then, they could have a talk. Her impatience had to take a backseat to his welfare for the moment.
Five
Zinsa was trying to immerse herself in a novel, but having little luck, when Grant awakened three hours later. As soon as his eyes fluttered open, she dropped the book and hurried to the bed, immediately touching his forehead. To her relief, he was cool, and his color had improved dramatically. “How do you feel?”
“Better.” A groan escaped him when he shifted into a sitting position, bracing his back with pillows propped against the headboard.
She peeled back the pad to examine the wound. There was a bit of seepage around the stitches, and it had taken on a reddish tint, but the antibiotics she had injected into him should keep an infection from forming. As long as he healed cleanly, there was little to worry about. “Can I get you something? Food, water?”
“I’m starving.” His free hand clamped around her forearm, drawing her down onto the bed beside him. “For you.”
An undignified giggle escaped her when Grant nuzzled her neck, finding a ticklish spot. The physician in her tried to take charge, and she wriggled far enough away to avoid his teasing lips. “We shouldn’t. Your shoulder—”
“Has nothing to do with my cock.” His voice dropped as his hand moved from her arm to between her thighs. “Or your pussy.”
Uncertain, she drew back to look into his eyes, finding them dark with hunger. The injury didn’t seem to have slowed him down, and surely he would know whether or not he was capable of making love. “As your doctor, I still say we shouldn’t do this.” She relaxed, melting into him, and sighing when his lips brushed her neck. “As your lover, I’m all for it.”
His breath washed over her neck when he chuckled, heightening already sensitive nerve endings and sending a shiver down her spine. She curled as close to him as she could while still avoiding his shoulder. Grant placed his injured arm around her, and the warmth of his hand seemed to burn through the thin fabric of her T-shirt.
Grant’s lips drifted down the column of her throat, seeking out the sensitive spot where her neck and shoulder met. Zinsa yelped with surprised pleasure when he nipped the area forcefully, drawing skin into his mouth to suckle. A rush of moisture flooded her pussy as he sucked, and she writhed against him, trying to turn her body to more fully press against his.
His groan of pain made her freeze, and she looked up at him, too turned on to be completely objective. “Do you need to stop?” Please, no. She needed him too badly.
A shake of his head filled her with relief, and she stretched upward, straining her neck to reach his mouth. He met her partway, dipping his neck, and their lips met with explosive intensity, tongues dueling for entrance to the other’s mouth. Satisfaction swept through her when she yielded to him, and his tongue invaded her mouth. Each dart and thrust ignited pulses of electricity throughout her body. Submission wasn’t a bad thing, she decided, as Grant shifted positions, bringing her onto her back so he could lie on top of her.
By some magic of motion, Grant managed to keep his lips locked with hers, his tongue constantly stroking, while his hands pushed up the hem of her T-shirt above her breasts. Wowed by his dexterity and heated kisses, Zinsa couldn’t seem to find the impetus to help him with the bra.
Not that he needed any assistance, as evidenced by his smooth unhooking of the front clasp. When his hands cupped her breasts, as his legs supported his weight to keep from crushing her, she was thankful she had selected the front-opening bra. It made instant access so much easier.
Grant turned his head slightly, his mouth leaving hers. Zinsa’s lips pressed against his cheek, and she licked the skin offered to her, pleased to feel him shudder at the sensation.
“I love your breasts. They’re perfect.” He squeezed lightly for emphasis, rubbing his thumbs over the plump nipples. “Like firm melons, with juicy berry nipples.”
Amid laughter, Zinsa asked, “Are you going to eat me or fuck me?” He turned his head again to look into her eyes. “Both, love.”
The husky promise made her pussy convulse with anticipation, and she wrapped her thighs around his legs, arching her hips in search of relief. “Get to it then.”
A grin slipped over his face, visible for just seconds, as his body slithered down hers. “Yes, ma’am.”
Her nipple hardened to the point of pain as his mouth reached it, his breath fanning over the taut peak. Restlessly, she lifted her back, trying to find his mouth, but he hovered just out of reach. She groaned, frustrated at his teasing, and then jumped with surprise when he licked her nipple.
That sensation had barely been processed when he blew on her bud again, making her cry out. It was exquisite, causing shudders of pleasure to rack her body. Giving her no time to assimilate or recover, Grant repeated the process several times, until she was a wriggling mass of pure sensation, aching for his cock.
“Do you like that?” he asked against her breast, his lips tickling her nipple.
“It’s wonderful.” Zinsa brought up her hand to cup her ignored breast, offering it to him. “But this one feels neglected.”
Grant gingerly lifted his torso, switching his angle to bring his mouth to the needy breast. A grimace of pain flashed across his face, but disappeared as he dipped his head. “We can’t have that.” His mouth engulfed her nipple and a good portion of her breast as he sucked with enthusiasm, each rhythmic tug of his mouth on her nipple causing her body to lift from the mattress in frantic arches.
Zinsa buried her fingers in his hair, holding his head securely against her, relishing the careful attention of his diligent tongue as he nibbled, flicked and swirled his way over her areola, moving toward the valley of her breasts. When he reached the area,
Grant paused, drawing in the scent of her. Instinctively, she mimicked the motion, drawing in a deep breath, cherishing his richly masculine aroma.
His tongue traced an elaborate pattern over her skin as he inched his way downward, taking time to explore every inch of her chest as he went. With his mouth busy at her stomach, blowing gentle breaths across damp trails left by his tongue, Zinsa’s tummy quivered continuously and her pussy soon picked up the rhythm, convulsing in time with his breaths.
One of Grant’s fingers traced her rib cage, taking time to become intimately familiar with the shape and length of each rib. It shouldn’t have been erotic, but it was, feeling even better than his soft kisses and light nibbling near her belly button.
Her breath caught in her throat when he finally went lower, his breath caressing her mound, as his hand left her ribs to stroke the neatly trimmed hair shielding her pussy. Arousal flowed from her in torrents and she marveled at how her body could continue to react so vigorously to the prolonged foreplay.
Any thoughts of biology fled when Grant buried his face between her thighs, his tongue squirming inside her slit to taste her with broad strokes. Whimpering with need, she bucked her hips against his face, crying out each time his tongue touched her clit.
His strokes started randomly, but soon he had narrowed in on the space between her clitoris and opening, taking leisurely swipes up and down the sensitive area, just barely flirting with her clit or teasing her opening before repeating the process. She was close to screaming with frustration, made all the worse by his other hand on her hip that restricted her ability to arch her hips.
“Please Grant, I need your cock.”
He didn’t reply, but his tongue thrust into her opening to sweep the
walls of her pussy as it contracted. Without thought, Zinsa tightened her hands into fists, eliciting a sound of protest from Grant when she accidentally pulled his hair. Good, she thought with a twinge of satisfaction. If he was going to keep her in this constant state of pleasure, bordering on pain, he deserved an equal measure. If she were more coherent,
she would figure out how to do that, but her brain was mush under his passionate ministrations.
A gasp left her when Grant’s tongue surged upward to caress her clit just before he sucked it into his mouth. “Oh God, more. I need you inside me.”
In response, the hand that had parted her lips shifted, and two of his fingers plunged deeply inside her wet heat. At the same time, he eased his hold on her hip, allowing her to thrust freely as she writhed against his face, wanting as much of his fingers as she could take, while shuddering under the onslaught of his tongue on her clit.
When a third finger entered her, Zinsa’s thrusting took on a frenetic pace. She couldn’t breathe, needing to come so badly. Her pussy convulsed, and she was on the edge of release when Grant’s fingers left her opening. If she’d had voice to protest the withdrawal, she would have, but could only ride out the tumultuous sensations storming through her, waiting to see what he would do next.
She hoped he was finally going to fuse their bodies, but instead his fingers, slick with her arousal, slid lower, seeking out her anus. Without thought, she clenched her anal muscles, babbling an incoherent sound to object. Either he didn’t hear her or he decided to make her say no plainly, because his middle finger probed her anus, circling gently. It was so foreign, but his massage felt good, and her muscles relaxed enough to permit his finger to slide inside an inch. Zinsa groaned at the invasion, expecting pain, but receiving pleasure instead.
“More.” The request was a guttural expletive more than a real word, but he must have recognized the syllables, because his finger penetrated her fully, having easy passage once he had passed the tight seal of her sphincter. His rate was slow, in contrast to his greedy mouth devouring her clit, as he thrust his finger in and out of her.
Zinsa found it impossible to buck her hips with his mouth on her pussy and his finger in her back passage. She was forced to lie still under the ardent blitz, surprised to find it so pleasurable to be at his mercy. Within seconds, her orgasm had peaked again,
and she trembled on the edge of coming. When Grant’s thumb plunged inside her pussy to fuck her in concert with his finger in her ass, release came in an instant, so potent it almost made her scream. She bit hard on her tongue to hold in her cries of satisfaction as her body pulsed and thrummed with the power of her orgasm.
Tremors suffused her body, scattering all thought or awareness, except for the pleasure consuming her. Never in her life had climax been so intense, and she wanted to revel in the moment. The compulsion was almost as strong as the one telling her to mount Grant and ride him to another peak. The need to have him inside her won out, because as satisfying as the orgasm had been, there was still something missing. She didn’t want him leading her to release. She wanted him along with her, as helplessly lost to passion as she had been.
As she came back to herself, Grant shifted to lie beside her on his side, his stomach pressed against her ribs. He brushed a gentle kiss across her sweaty forehead before tucking her close to his body.
A frown furrowed her brow. He seemed to be settling in for the night. The heavy weight of his cock pushing into her hip indicated he was far from release. “Grant?”
“Hm?” He sounded sleepy. “Don’t you want to make love?”
His chin rubbed against the top of her head. “I thought we just did.” “Yes…no…sort of.”
His chuckle had a strange edge. “Which is it, love?”
Zinsa sighed with frustration, struggling to articulate her emotions. “You made love to me. We didn’t make love.”
“What’s the difference?”
She grasped the length of his cock in her palm, squeezing lightly. “This is the difference. What you did to me was wonderful, but what about you?”
Releasing a deep breath, Grant said, “I don’t feel up to it right now.”
On their short acquaintance, it should have been impossible for her to detect that he was lying simply from the slight change of pitch in his voice, but she could. Maybe it wasn’t so strange, because she felt like she knew him on many levels, except the most intimate, where he wouldn’t let her in. “Your cock tells a different story.” She stroked him, and he convulsed in her hand.
Grant’s arm slipped between their bodies, and he captured her wrist, moving her hand to his stomach. “My cock would always be ready for you, but my arm is sore, and I think whatever was in that shot you gave me is still having an effect.”
With a sigh, she let him have his way. Knowing he was being deceptive and proving it were two different things. It was conceivable the Demerol had left him groggy, and maybe his shoulder was acting up again, but they weren’t his primary reasons for avoiding intercourse. No, it was something deeper and much more confusing. She suspected it still had to do with his issues of control, but wasn’t up to the long talk she had planned for during the time he rested. Right then, she just wanted to surrender to sleep in his arms, letting her mind pretend everything was perfect, if only for a little while.
After sleeping fitfully, Grant sneaked out of bed early the next morning when the first streaks of dawn lit the sky. Not wanting to wake Zinsa and face the questions he could practically feel hanging between them, he dressed in a hurry, wincing at the stiffness in his shoulder. He spared only a minute to scrawl a note for her, using the pretext of checking on the injured impala to explain his early departure, before heading off to the bunkhouse’s communal showers.
The shower refreshed him, and turning the knob to cold for the last few seconds had finally eased the constant ache in his groin that had assaulted him last night, when he refused to come. The pain had been nearly unbearable for a few minutes there, and only the fear of transforming in front of Zinsa stopped him from plunging his cock inside her throbbing pussy, so slick with her arousal.
He bit back a groan as he walked to the Land Rover, sliding into the driver’s seat in an awkward step up, careful to keep pressure from his wounded arm. He mentally thanked Manu for having at least one automatic vehicle on the preserve as he put the key in the ignition and fired the engine. Shifting would have been impossible in his current state, making escape that much harder.
Grant tried to ignore the voice in the back of his mind calling him cowardly as he drove down the lane, hoping to have an easy time finding the impala herd. After checking on the baby he had injured in his wild state, he would try to figure out what to do about Zinsa. Telling her the truth was an option that didn’t even enter into his brain.
After his strange behavior the night before, she wasn’t taken aback by waking alone, but was surprised he had taken time to write a brief note. The explanation was terse, and he hadn’t bothered to sign his name, but she supposed she should feel grateful he had acknowledged she would wonder about his whereabouts.
Zinsa wasn’t feeling particularly grateful when she left the bed and padded to the shower, immersing herself in a tepid spray as her anger simmered, slowly reaching a boil. Was it silly to feel used when he was the one who hadn’t climaxed? All the pleasure had been directed toward her, but in the cold light of day, it all seemed clinical and detached on his part, as if he had deliberately seduced her to forestall talking.
The rough towel left marks on her skin from her rubbing so hard, caught in the grip of her annoyance. For lack of a better target, she tossed it on the floor and kicked it away once her skin was dry. Glaring into the small mirror, Zinsa saw Grant’s face the way it had been last night, instead of her own. There hadn’t been any mistaking his withdrawal from her, despite the close physical proximity he had maintained until she fell asleep. After that, who knew? She had rested more deeply than she could recall in recent months, but
any sense of peace she had garnered from the sleep had fled upon waking alone.
She dressed without paying much attention to clothing choices, her hands automatically opting for comfortable favorites, while her mind whirled with confusion. What was she going to do about Grant? Chances were good she would soon be able to return to her clinic, since the news was reporting the guerillas were withdrawing from the area, with the army in pursuit. Should she pretend that nothing had happened between them, that she hadn’t inherited the family “curse” of instantly recognizing her soul mate? Was that even possible?
Taking several deep breaths, Zinsa calmed herself, knowing she couldn’t be an emotional wreck and give optimal care to her patients. The simple truth was, she couldn’t make any decisions on her own, at least not yet. First, she had to talk to Grant, really talk to him, to see how he felt. If he didn’t share her emotions, she would have no choice but to withdraw. But if he did, he better have a damned good reason for the way he was acting.
The patients made it easier for Zinsa to forget her angst, and she immersed herself in their care, doing her best to juggle all the tasks single-handedly. About an hour after opening the clinic for the day, Amani, the mother of the only child among her patients, offered her services in a quiet voice. Although she had no formal medical training, she wasn’t afraid to help lift patients, clean messes, or fetch supplies.
As they worked together, Zinsa made a mental note to offer Amani a position when she reopened the clinic, knowing the woman had no other source of income. Her husband had been one of the men killed in a village raid by the national army a few miles away. During the attack, a stray bullet had caught her daughter in the thigh. By the time Amani had carried her to the clinic the next day, a serious infection had set in, requiring massive doses of IV antibiotics and constant care.
While Hasina was being treated, Amani had found little time to worry about the future, but Zinsa knew it weighed heavily on her and hoped the offer of employment would ease her mind a bit.
