Slow, delicious ones. No rush to finish and leave. No paid-for time ticking down.
The scorching blaze I’ve grown used to transforms into soothing warmth. I wrap myself in it, tugging her closer. I run my hands up her spine, to her neck, the back of her head. Those sacred strands of silk spill over my skin.
I’ve never done this before.
My whole life, I’ve avoided virgins, lumping them in with innocents. People I try to stay far away from.
Nika may not be innocent in the traditional sense—she’s responsible for death, and I’m relatively certain she’s killed with her bare hands—still, she’s naive and unmarred.
But…she also isn’t. Not really. She’s just as scarred by her past as I am. And as of yesterday, she’s no longer a virgin.
Part of me blames myself for that, but Nika clearly doesn’t.
Maybe now I can at least show her there’s more to sex than fighting and working.
I release her lips and trail kisses down her neck. Twisting, I bring her down on the couch with me.
Then she kisses me again.
I respond by tasting her with my tongue, exploring and learning the shape of her and memorizing every little detail.
The way she moans when I nip gently at her lower lip, her gasps when I suck it between my teeth.
I find the hem of her sweater and pull up. She helps by lifting her arms. Not a passive partner, but an active one. We’re doing this together.
With her assistance, I strip her down, revealing her pale arms and perfect breasts.
She’s breathtaking.
Not in spite of but because of her danger. A weapon clad in creamy skin and white hair. The killer who tends flowers. The woman who saved me when she should have left me to die.
I cup her breast, my thumb brushing over the nipple.
She gasps at the tiny hint of pleasure as if no one’s ever touched her like this before.
Because they haven’t.
She was a virgin before she met me.The reminder is sobering. My teasing and taunting only worked because of her inexperience. If she’d had any real experience at all, she never would’ve let me get away with all that.
Unfamiliar shame floods through me. I don’t want to be her monster.
I pull back to say…I don’t even know what. Sorry? Forgive me?
She stops me by placing her hand over my mouth. “Don’t.” Those fierce dark eyes narrow. “Don’t apologize. Don’t make this something it isn’t.”
I tug her hand down and kiss her palm. I don’t know how to explain this. “You deserve…”Something more than me.
“I deserve nothing.” The emptiness of her voice contrasts with those bottomless eyes, full of flickering emotions I can’t even begin to name. “Neither do you. We both know what we want, what we need. And we’re both here now. That’s all this is.”
I don’t argue.
We can just be humans together rather than weapons pointed at each other.
For now, I can just be a man with a willing woman in my arms.
A woman who’s still wearing entirely too many clothes.
Working together, we fix that and deal with the rest of mine.
