He fucking loved her blunt confidence.

When she began to unbutton his shirt, he pulled it off over the top of his head instead and threw it aside. She ran her hands over his shoulders with a little moan, as if she found him as beautiful as he found her. Her touch was electric fire in his veins, the sounds she made as he pulled down the cup of her bra to expose her nipple a kiss to the most sensitive, most vulnerable part of him.

He sucked on the rich brown of her nipple.

Payal’s body jerked and then she was holding him to her, telling him without words that she liked it, that he could continue.

Molding and squeezing her other breast with his hand because he wanted to touch her everywhere all at once, he suddenly froze. “Shit, I forgot about my calluses.” Gloves or not, his palms were never going to be anything but hardened—and Payal’s skin was like velvet.

“What?” An uncomprehending look.

He held up a hand. “My skin is rough.”

“Oh, I like the texture of your hands and your warmth and how you touch me.” She caressed her fingers over his palm. “It all feels really, really good.”

Simple. Direct. Payal.

Thanking his lucky stars, he got back to his delicious adoration of her breasts. Cupping one, he rolled her nipple with his tongue. When she whimpered as if it was too much, he kissed the tip, then switched breasts.

“Canto.” A breathy sigh.

He tugged at the clasp of her bra. “How the hell does this thing come off?”

The bra was suddenly gone, her gorgeous breasts bare for his delectation.

“Did you just teleport it off?” Groaning, he closed his hands over both mounds.

Lips plump and kiss-wet, she cupped his face in her hands and devoured him. Senses on fire, he kissed her back with little finesse and no damn control while her breasts were crushed against his chest. She was so soft and so curvy and so damn lush that he wanted to eat her up.

Even the small voice of panic that yelled he was losing control, losing himself, couldn’t stop him.

Accessing the hover controls with one hand, his mouth locked with hers, he moved them closer to the bed. When they broke apart to gasp in air, he lifted her up and dropped her lightly on the mattress, his upper body plenty strong enough to handle her small frame that way. She watched him with hungry eyes as he lifted himself up onto the mattress.

It wasn’t until he was pressed lengthwise along her that he realized she could’ve teleported him. She hadn’t. Because this was his 3K. She understood what he could and couldn’t bear, understood his scars as he understood hers.

A shudder rocked through him as he buried his face against her neck.

“Canto, my Canto.” She kissed his neck, his shoulder, stroked her hands down his back, melting him from the inside out.

Lifting his head as the thread of panic retreated under the tenderness of her loving, he took her lips again. She rocked her lower body up against him.

Pressing up on his hands, he looked down at her. Her hair was all tumbled, her face flushed, and her nipples wet from his caresses. Small red marks lingered from where his stubble had brushed against her, but she didn’t seem to mind the roughness. He pressed down, moved to kiss the softness of her stomach.

She arched up … and the bed lifted off the floor.

Chapter 38

 

Strong telekinetics may cause physical destruction during emotional and sexual intimacy, especially in the first instances. Control is possible, but the nature of it depends on the individual. Listed below are strategies used by other Tks who have contributed to this document.

—The Manual (private document)

CANTO LOOKED UP to see that Payal’s eyes were closed, her breathing erratic. He grinned. If he was going to get naked with a telekinetic, he had to be ready for a few interesting side effects.

Ignoring the fact that their bed was levitating, he used his arms to move down the bed, then braced himself on one hand and used his other to undo the top of her pants. And … they were gone. Teleported away.

Laughing at her impatience, he kissed the top of her navel.

He also noticed that she hadn’t done the same to his jeans. His 3K. Remembering what he needed even when desire was screwing with her control.

Because it’s you.

Her words came back to him, and he found himself saying, “Teleport off my jeans, baby.” He could accept that small loss of control when it came to this intimate act.

Because it was her.

She met his eyes, her own hazy … and then she moved her hands to the top button of his jeans. Groaning, he let her take the manual route, let her unbutton and unzip him. He wasn’t wearing underwear, and the little gasp-moan she made when she set sight on him almost made him break then and there.

The only thing that helped him maintain control was the knowledge that pleasure was a foreign concept to Payal.

Canto wasn’t going to be another taker in her life.

When she finally teleported away his jeans to leave him naked, he watched her breath catch, her skin flush as she ran her hands over him from shoulder to the part of his thighs she could reach.

He couldn’t feel that section of his thighs, but it didn’t matter—the visual impact was visceral. Pressing down on both arms, he kissed her lips, then made his way to her throat. She arched up against him, her nails digging into his shoulders.

Canto made a note in his Manual of Loving Payal: Throat extremely sensitive.

Her breasts were even more so and he couldn’t resist adoring them, his own body held in a fierce kind of check that might’ve been impossible had he not spent so many years learning to contain his anger and frustration and pain as he lay at the mercy of physicians.

He put that willpower to use today to pleasure his 3K. The musk of her was thick in the air by the time he reached the dip of her waist and pressed a kiss there.

She pulled at his shoulders. “Canto.” It was a plea.

His back perspiration-damp, Canto made his way up her body. Bracing himself with one arm beside her head, he ran his free hand down to the juncture between her thighs. No cotton hindered his touch. Payal had teleported off her panties.

“Payal.” He held on to his fractured willpower with gritted teeth.

A single touch and she jerked so hard she almost bucked him off. Their bed banged onto the floor with enough force to jar his teeth, then rose up again while other loose items in the room began flying around them in a silent tornado.