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Kate sensed Liam’s firm presence behind her. He lent her his support, his strength without touching her.
“Take a breath. Nice and slow and deep.”
His warm breath rustled her hair. She obeyed his instructions, and her body unwound.
On her next exhale, the gossamer fingering hit between her shoulder blades, lighter and more delicate than before.
Her back instinctively arched and dozens of thorns stung her belly.
Ducking from the sting brought back the teasing. She was trapped between the competing sensations. Even standing stiff and not moving allotted her no relief. Either be in pain or get tickled.
“You gotta breathe, kitten.”
Kate concentrated on breathing. In her nose. Out her mouth. Soon the rival feelings melded together. She stopped being able to tell where one started and the other ended.
Her pulse beat a peaceful rhythm in her chest. A whirlpool of kaleidoscopic colors whisked around behind her lids, catching her in the vortex. Spinning her. Lifting her.
It was a wholly foreign feeling, this being perched on the verge of something…she didn’t know what. It might be awful, or it could be glorious. Pressure built low in her womb. Her breasts filled with blood, tightening her nipples to throbbing buds. A deluge of warmth whooshed through her body. It pooled between her legs. Made her wet and achy…down there.
Her conscience demanded she halt this. This wasn’t right. It was sick. Twisted. She flung her prissy morals to the side.
The prickly spines traveled up her stomach to the underside of her left breast. They pressed roughly into her tender flesh.
Her head dropped back as her mouth opened on a pained gasp. The discomfort lessened, and she immediately missed it.
“What’s your color?” Anxiety tinged Liam’s words.
“Green,” she replied without hesitation.
“Talk to me. Tell me what you’re feeling.”
She swallowed. “I…I feel…lost. I want…”
“What do you want, kitten?”