She squeezed and then began to move her hand up and down. "Why does this make me feel good?" Her voice was heavy with sexual heat, her breath coming out in soft pants. "There was nothing about this in the manuals."
Moving his hands from behind his head, he reached down and pulled her forward by gripping her thighs. She came only so far and not far enough. "What?"
"I'm caressing you and yet I'm the one who feels... pleasure." The last word was a moan as he grew even harder in her hands.
Lucas was used to sex, used to sensual women who knew what they were doing, but this Psy with her questions and her strange innocence had him so desperately hungry, he was starting to lose the ability to think. "Suck me, kitten. Taste me." The raw demand came from the animal heart of him.
She didn't scare. And he was pleased. "Taste you? Yes... I have to taste you... have to satisfy the craving." Scooting down his body, she knelt on all fours, knees between his legs, hands on his hip bones. Then she dipped her head and began to taste him as he'd asked.
He clenched his hand in her hair, telling himself not to buck as his body demanded. The sweet suction of her mouth was the most intense pleasure he'd ever experienced. When he saw lights flicker behind his eyes, he knew they were shifting from human to cat, cat to human. Only the most extreme edge of arousal could make him lose that much control.
Using his other hand to push her hair back, he watched her as she moved her head up and down the hard length of his erection, the sight serving to arouse him almost to madness. The need to pound into the silky heat between her legs was a driving rhythm in his brain, but tonight, he was at her mercy... and she wanted him in her mouth. He came with a growl that reverberated around the room, the thick richness of her hair in his fists.
"Thank you, kitten," he said.
There was no answer.
With a frown, he opened his eyes. And found himself in his lair, spent, pleasured, and alone.
Sascha was having trouble meeting Lucas's gaze, scared he'd be able to see the erotic images flashing through her mind like a full-motion picture. What was happening to her? She'd spent last night lost in the most seductive dreams of her life, had woken gasping for release, her skin wet with perspiration.
And Lucas had been the star figure in her fantasies.
The plan had been to get him out of her system by programming her brain to dream about him. She'd intended to let her senses run wild in the safety of her mind and indulge until she was sated. It had backfired horribly. She'd had her taste and now found she wanted even more. Like an addict, she craved the sensations he'd shown her.
"I'll be taking you to meet Clay Bennett, our construction supervisor, in about twenty minutes. After that I want to show you the materials we'll be using for construction, since you want to double-check every nut and bolt." Those piercing green eyes were tinted with hints of mocking amusement.
She couldn't help but remember how those same eyes had looked as she'd used her mouth to suck him to orgasm. That word brought her to her senses. Her shields were cracking again and he was the catalyst.
"Thank you for telling me." She tried to note down the details on her organizer but could barely see through the buzzing in her head. This was bad, very bad. Instead of containing them, the dreams appeared to have strengthened the creeping fingers of insanity.
"You don't look like you slept well."
Was there a subtle innuendo in that sentence? No, she told herself. How could there be? She was the one who'd had the dreams. Lucas surely had no need for release found in fantasy - shee'd seen the way women looked at him. And why not? He was a man who made no bones about his sexuality and even she understood the kind of primal heat a male like that could produce.
Once again, her mind threatened to run away with her sanity. Shoving up shield after mental shield, she said, "My rest was disturbed but I'm perfectly capable of functioning." As soon as she got control of her runaway thoughts.
"Bad dreams?" He watched her with the concentration of a hunter stalking prey.
"The Psy don't dream." It was the accepted wisdom. If that was a lie, she thought, what other lies had she been fed? Or was it true for all other Psy? Did they not live even in their dreams?
"A pity," Lucas said, that rough-edged voice smoothing into a drawl. "Dreams can be very... pleasurable."
Wet heat flared. She pressed her thighs tight, terrifyingly aware that her body had reacted in a way a changeling might detect. Panic had her shoving everything deep into the secret compartments of her mind.
The panther inside Lucas crouched low, tracking Sascha's every movement. Man and beast were both puzzled - what was it about her that had triggered the sensual eroticism of that dream? In life she was as cold as ice, as touchable as a hunk of metal. Aside from the hint of fire in those cardinal eyes that he refused to believe was a figment of his imagination.
He froze as he picked up the faintest traces of female arousal. The panther lunged at the walls of his mind, telling him to take her, that she was ready. The man wasn't so certain. What if it was a Psy trick - the ultimate back door into his mind? Until he knew for sure, he wouldn't be stroking Sascha except in his dreams.
"The Psy know nothing about pleasure," she commented, looking down at her little computerized tablet. "And we intend to keep it that way. Shall we be on our way to see your construction supervisor?"
"After you." He stood and waved toward the doorway. "How's your mother?" It was time to start digging. The reason for this charade could never be forgotten.
"Fine." Sascha reached the glass-enclosed elevator and waited for it to rise up to their level.