There was hardly any space between us, but still Calder caught my wrist before I could reach him. “Calder—”
“You spent months studying my anatomy,” he said gruffly, eyes glittering with lust. “Now it’s my turn to study yours.”
In a flash of movement, he tugged me to him, swept his other arm around the back of my knees, and pulled my legs out from underneath me.
I fell back into the softness of the bed with something that started as a laugh and ended as a moan as he climbed over me. He was mountainous like this, looming above me, hard and ridged and breathtaking, pinning my hand above my head. His muscles rippled, strong and powerful andpoised, like a predator about to devour his prey.
“Calder ...” I rubbed my thighs together, loving the way he took the control I offered without making me feel weak.
His head lowered gradually, holding just a second above my lips before he claimed my mouth. The kiss was slow and deep. Outside had been a surgery. Demanding. Necessary. Life changing. But this ... the deep strokes of his tongue, the exploration, the cataloging of which spots made me moan and which drew me to shiver ... what was happening right now was an autopsy. A systematic dismantling of my erogeny for his study. And the man doing it was a different Calder. The slow and in-control Calder. The reserved and determined Calder. The Calder with the hungry eyes and slow touch that promised to peel me apart cell by cell before he put me back together.
“Calder.” It was a question and an answer all wrapped in one breathless plea.
He nipped at my upper lip, and I felt the pad of his finger press just above. “Philtrum.”
I sucked in a breath. “You remembered.”
He traced my lips and then took hold of my chin. “I’d never forget a single thing about you.”
And just like that, a blanket of goose bumps layered over my skin, my nipples pebbled, and a familiar heat flooded my veins. My core ached for him. Throbbed to the point of pain.
My eyes drifted shut as he pressed his mouth back to my jaw. My cheek. My neck. “Sternocleidomastoid. Thyroid cartilage.” My throat bobbed as he covered each spot with slow, languorous kisses. “Clavicle.Sternum.” The heat of his breath warmed his path, and as it reached my breast, I felt myself arching toward him, aching for that touch.
“What’s this, Dr. Crane?” he taunted, dragging his finger in a circle around the swell of flesh.
“Breast.” The word rushed out.
“And this?”
My eyes snapped open as he flicked my nipple. “Areola.” My reward was the heat of his mouth sealing over the sensitive peak. Instantly, I grabbed the back of his head, clutching him to me as his tongue swirled and teased.
He kneaded my begging flesh, plumping me to his mouth like a man starved.
“God, Calder,” I panted and gasped at the scrape of his teeth. Their sharp bite. And then the fast, soothing flick of his tongue.
For long minutes, I dissolved into an offering of whimpers and moans, a tithe to the torture of his mouth on one breast and then the other. He didn’t stop—not even to breathe, it seemed—as he savored every bit of pleasure from my body. Savored every inch of me until I started to squirm, my core so slick and needy for more.
I never knew anatomy lessons could be like this.
“Please.” I reached for his shoulders in some poor attempt to pull that mouth of his back to mine.
Instead, he moved in the other direction.
Calder bent between my thighs, and I’d never felt more on display than in that moment. He pushed my legs wide and spread my pussy open for his attention. A rush of heat welcomed his gaze, and all I could do was stare, his expression a masterpiece in salivation.
“Calder—”
“Don’t,” he ordered, his eyes gold daggers slicing into mine. “I don’t need help with this one.”
Oh god.
My arms started to shake, but I couldn’t look away. Not when I needed to brace myself for every touch that was to come.
“Clitoris,” he said as the pad of his thumb skated over the swollen bundle, sending me into a cascade of shivers. His low groan caught my attention, and he slid two fingers along my entrance. “Damn, that made you wet,” he rumbled and brought his fingers to his mouth, sucking them clean. “So wet for me, Dr. Crane.” And then he helped himself to seconds.
Gasping, I clutched the blankets at my sides. “Enough,” I panted, my nails scoring into his sheets. “Calder, please—”
“Shh.” He gave his head a slow shake, but his eyes didn’t leave my core. “I’m not done with my lesson yet.”
