Hermi's hands moved with a deliberate slowness, tracing the corded ridges of Cassian's chest. He remained braced over her, his knees pinning either side of her thighs. The position left the heavy length of his manhood hovering in the air just inches from her abdomen.
The further her touch traveled down his torso, the more she felt the intimidation exuding from his skin begin to fray. She could taste the subtle tremor in his thumb where it remained hooked in her mouth, pinning her tongue to the floor of her jaw.
"What do you think you are doing?" Cassian hissed. His voice was a rasp of warning, yet his thumb only pressed deeper against her tongue, and his torso did not retreat an inch from her wandering hands. "As much as I am flattered that you crave my touch even while you are gravely sick, I must remind you... you are in no condition to provoke your husband."
