‘Because I don’t trust myself,’ he admits.
I tilt my head, my cheek sliding against his chest, my nose skimming the smooth plane of his skin. I can feel his heart now, hammering beneath my ear. ‘You trusted yourself with me yesterday.’
‘I was half-dead yesterday,’ he says, breath hitching when my knee slides between his legs. ‘That was safer.’
I shouldn’t move closer. I know I shouldn’t.
But I do it anyway.
My fingers trace the line of his ribs, tentatively at first, then bolder when he doesn’t stop me. His hand tightens at my waist, thumb pressing into bare skin, sending a shiver straight through me. The bed is too small. There’s nowhere for the heat between us to go, nowhere for the want to bleed off.
‘Rose,’ he warns again, but his voice is low now, threaded with strain.
I lift my head enough to look at him in the darkness. I can’t see much, but I don’t need to. I know the shape of him. The tension in his jaw. The way his breath stutters when I lean in and brush my lips against his throat.
It’s just a kiss. Just a little kiss.
Then another.
His hand slides up my back, slow, reverent, like he’s relearning me, his touch careful and aching all at once. But when his mouth finds mine, there’s nothing restrained about the kiss, nothing gentle. This one is hungry. Desperate. All the things we haven’t said crashing together between us.
I melt into it, my fingers fisting in his hair, my body fitting against his as if it were made to be there. Usually he’s all dominance and fire, and I’m all too happy to be burned, but this time I’m in charge.
There’s nothing subtle or coy about my movements as I rock against him, pressing the inside of my legs against his bare skin, careful of his injured side. I lean my weight to the other side of him,but every nerve ending is lighting up, my skin buzzing, my pulse racing.
His hand moves, slips lower, heat following in its wake, and I gasp into his mouth as he rubs against the damp fabric of my underwear, his fingers already knowing the strokes that will lead to my unravelling. A second groan escapes me, and the sound seems to snap something in him. He moans into my mouth, his grip tightening, his forehead pressing against mine as if he’s trying to ground himself.
‘Gods,’ he breathes. ‘Rose, I am yours. You know that, right? I will always be yours.’
I do. Gods I wish it weren’t true, but I do.
With his strongest action so far, he pulls me closer. The bed lurches, and a light gasp flies from me, but it’s not at the motion. It’s at the feel of his hard cock pressing against me. So fucking hard, just the thought of it is enough to make me drip.
Concern for his shoulder is my only reticence as my hand reaches down to the fabric of his underwear, lingering on the surface for barely a moment before dipping under and sliding against the warmth of his skin. The head of his cock is already dripping precum and a new throbbing pulses in me. Trying to steady myself, I move my hand down, wrapping my fingers around his girth and squeezing just hard enough to watch his lips part in anticipation. Then, slowly, I pull up and then push down the length of him, revelling in every perfect inch.
‘Gods, Thorn,’ he gasps as his hips roll into the rhythm of my wrist, his pace increasing, seemingly involuntarily. ‘Oh Gods, you have no idea what you do to me.’
I do. I can see it in the tautness of his muscles. Feel it in the scatter of static that skitters uncontrollably across my skin. But it’s not enough. I want more.
I don’t allow myself to think about what I’m doing as I shift further down the bed, only stopping when my mouth is level with his cock. For a second, I hesitate at its size. It’s not just its girth. It’s the length, too. There’s no way I can take it all, but before the doubt fully forms, I shrug the concern aside. Right now, this is what I want.
‘You don’t have to do that,’ Kyor murmurs as his hand claws into my hair.
‘I know,’ I tell him a moment before my lips part and I take him in my mouth.
Static sprays across the inside of my thighs as my head starts a slow rhythm. Gods, every taste of him, from his lips to his skin, makes my body crave him even more, and this is no different. Aware of the wetness pooling between my legs, I take as much as I can before lifting my head back up and going again.
‘Fuck me, Thorn.’
‘We’ll get there,’ I murmur as I take a breath before continuing to take him deeper and deeper.
I can feel the restraint coursing through him. He nearly died, and yet he still won’t let himself have the luxury of a release. That’s not something I’m okay with, and so I quicken my pace.
An involuntary moan rips from his throat, and I take him deeper still, more than ever before, and when he groans again, I know his control is starting to fray. With each of my movements, his own thrusts deepen, slowly at first, but then faster and faster, until his cock is sliding in and out of my mouth with a freeness I can’t remember seeing him exhibit before. A spark, bigger than ever, jumps between my thighs as he suddenly pulls back and releases his grip on my hair.
‘Stop, Thorn. I won’t last long with you doing that,’ he groans, drawing me back up his body. ‘Please, let me feel you first. Let me feel how wet I make you.’
Rather than protesting, I shift up, tracing a line of kisses up his torso before I lie on my back, my body exposed and ready for his taking. Without another word, Kyor’s hand slides down my belly and under the waistband of my underwear, his fingertips grazing over my clit, eliciting my deepest moan so far.
