“I lied. That’s not all. That’s very obviously not all, and I imagine you’ve figured this out by now but I’m going to say it anyway. I can’t stop thinking about you, Rosie.”
The glow intensified; for some reason I felt the heat of it rise all the way to the roots of my hair. The Captain gave a low laugh.
“See, I’m glad I asked. How could I live with myself if I’d missed that blush?”
“I amnotblushing,” I lied. “I’m burning from the inside out.”
A smirk and another step. He lifted a hand in the warm and glowing air between us and turned it slowly from side to side, both of us watching the light dance between his fingers, ribbons of Flame licking eagerly at his skin like a needy kitten.
“I didn’t expect it to be so gentle,” he said, wonder softening the corners of his smile. “I can feel the heat, but it doesn’t burn.”
“It can, if I will it.”
Gods, why had I saidthat? To a Kingsman no less, moments after he’d assured me he didn’t believe my magic a threat? But the Captain just lifted his gaze from the faint fire weaving his fingers, something like amusement glinting in his eyes.
“I’ll take care not to cross you, then.”
His wicked grin tugged at my magic, and the flames gathered tighter around his hand, circling his wrist as though they might drag him closer. And maybe they had more force than I imagined, because his handdiddraw closer, pausing just short of touching me.
“Can I – ?”
I nodded even before the unspokenYesechoed inside my head. His palm came to rest just above my heart, and it took every withered scrap of self control I had remaining not to sigh at his touch. It hardly mattered though, with the way my Flame brightened, the orange and gold cast of it flaring merrily and giving me away.
“Gods, you’re beautiful,” he said, so faintly I wondered if he’d meant to say it at all. “You’re always beautiful, but right now, like this – it’s blinding.”
Then he sighed, and the building heat washed over me like flame made fluid. Though I tried to hold my breath, my magic wasn’t having it. Beams of light flared between his fingers and cast his face in a warm, flickering glow. Gold lined the thin scar across his face and lit the vibrant green of his eyes until they gleamed like emeralds.
I could admit it now, with my Flame at the fore.
He was beautiful, too.
“You have nothing to fear from me. I swear it.”
And I believed him. He lowered his mouth to mine slowly, hesitantly, giving me plenty of opportunity to pull away. Instead, I braced my arms against his shoulders and met him halfway, putting my whole body behind the kiss. His taut frame sagged with relief, and his full weight pressed me back, hands moving to my hair again and tangling there possessively.
It was a slow kiss, an unhurried one, but the heat and hunger he’d stirred in me had never really faded, just lying in wait. I dragged my palms down the hard plains of his body, revelled in every shudder and groan my touch elicited. My hands trailed the ridges of each taut muscle rippling his stomach, down anddown until I lingered at his belt and he caught my lip between his teeth.
“Rosie,” he groaned, so guttural I couldn’t tell if it was warning or encouragement.
My fingers curled around his buckle, clumsily working it free before he caught my wrist. He cursed under his breath, visibly torn, but his hold on me didn’t falter.
“The moment you kissed me, I had to make a promise to myself. I had toswearI wasn’t going to fuck you for the first time in a broom cupboard. If you keep going, you’re going to make a liar of me.”
His bluntness took me by surprise, and not in the way I might once have thought. The heat now curling beneath my navel had little to do with my magic.
“What if that’s what I want?”
His fingers flexed around my wrist, but he shook his head — a little jerkily, like it was difficult. I caught that hesitation; tugged on it a little desperately.
“We’re alone in the dark, for gods know how long,” I told him, voice lowering when I teased; “And I’mverypunctual with my monthly tea.”
It wasn’t an outrightI want you to come inside me, but he groaned at the implication all the same. And yet still, he didn’t release my wrist.
“You’re going to want a bed, Rosie. I’m going to take my time with you. Need you comfortable.”
My breath shuddered out of me, then stopped entirely when his broad hands found my waist and backed me into the shelves. He kissed me again, all rough beard, and teeth, and soft, searching tongue. And then I was back where we started, seated on the shelf with my legs spread around him, his hands sliding under my skirts and his mouth almost bruising on mine until I finally had to break away, gasping for air.
“If you don’t want this,” I panted, “we need to stop.”
