This matters.
"Are you certain?" I ask, because I need to hear her say it again. Need to know she understands.
Annora looks at me steadily. "Yes."
"If you want me to stop—at any point—you tell me."
"I will."
"Promise."
"I promise." A ghost of a smile touches her mouth. "You're stalling."
I am.
Because once I do this, once I touch her like this, everything changes.
The oath becomes real.
I cross the distance between us and kiss her again, slower this time. Learning her. She tastes like honey and herbs and something indefinablyher. Her hands come up to my chest, fingers spreading over where my heart pounds.
I feel it when the decision settles in her—a subtle shift, a leaning in.
Permission.
I walk her backward to the bed. Guide her to sit. Kneel between her legs and start unlacing her boots with hands that are steadier than they should be.
"You don't have to—" she starts.
"I want to." I slip one boot off, then the other. Run my palms up her calves over the thick stockings. "Let me."
She nods, silent now, watching me with wide eyes.
I unlace her overdress slowly. Peel it off her shoulders. The linen shift underneath is thin, and I can see her skin through it—the curve of her breasts, the dip of her waist.
Beautiful.
I kiss her collarbone where the collar sat. Feel her pulse jump under my lips.
"Here?" I murmur against her skin.
"Yes." Her voice is breathless.
I kiss down to the hollow of her throat. "Here?"
"Yes."
Lower. The swell of her breast through linen. "Here?"
Her answer is a soft gasp.
I pull back enough to meet her eyes. "Tell me if you want me to stop."
"Don't stop."
I pull the shift over her head and just... look.
She's perfect. Scars and all. The brand on her shoulder. The faint marks where the collar rubbed. The curve of her hips and the softness of her stomach and the way she's breathing too fast, chest rising and falling.
