Page 24 of Darkest Kiss

"Don't." I press my thighs together around my hand. "Don't say my name like that right now."

"Like what?" His light green eyes stare at me, impaling me. I’m fucking sweating.

I say, "It sounds like you're trying to talk me down from a ledge."

"I'm not." He stands up slowly and puts his hand on my forehead, which is such a clinical thing to do that I almost laugh. Except that his hand is cool. I'm apparently running a temperature that could cook an egg and the relief of it makes my eyes close.

It isn’t the reason why I lean against his hand, though. That’s all me.

"You're burning up," he says.

"Yes. That's what I've been saying."

He makes a decision. I can feel it in the shift of his weight before he even moves. "Come on."

"Where—"

"Shower." He's already picking me up. "Let’s get you under cool water."

I can’t disagree, especially because the move presses me closer to him. I brush a kiss over his neck. He bites his lip but doesn’t otherwise react.

I’d like to bite his lip. He has full lips that look pillowy enough to dive into.

Rian carries me into a bathroom the size of my whole apartment. Everything is white marble and glass. The shower alone would sleep four people; the control panel has more buttons than my car does. He turns it to cool and sets me down inside, still in the white lace dress.

The water hits me and I make a sound that echoes off the tile. “Mmm.”

"Better?" he asks from outside the glass.

"Marginally." I turn my face up into the water. It helps with the temperature. It helps approximately zero percent with the other problem, which is still very much a problem. The heat is sitting low in my stomach regardless of what the water is doing. I press my thighs together. Still nothing. "Rian?"

"Yeah."

I whisper, "I'm dying."

It takes him a second to answer, "You're not dying, pretty girl."

"I feel like I'm dying." I turn around and look at him through the glass. He's standing outside the shower with his hands in his pockets, still fully dressed, his pale eyes very concerned. The water has soaked through the white lace of my dress, I watch him register this, his eyes dipping down, and I go very still. "Can you… touch me?"

Rian’s eyes flit up to mine. "Noemi⁠—"

"I'm serious." My voice comes out embarrassingly raw. "I genuinely can't stand it anymore. Please just—I need you to touch me, I need something, please⁠—"

He hesitates for a second, then shakes his head and steps into the shower fully clothed.

It should be absurd, but it isn't. It’s him meeting me where I need him to go. Chivalrous, almost.

He puts his hands on either side of my face and kisses me. He’s gripping my head and pressing his lips against mine, a little sloppy but it feels so good. I gasp because it's nothing like the kiss before the injection.

That one was careful. This one is reckless. I grab the front of his soaked shirt and pull him closer. He makes a sound against my mouth that I feel everywhere.

"Okay," he says quietly, against my lips. "It’s okay, Noemi. I've got you."

"I need you to fuck me," I say, which is not something I've ever said out loud before in my life. After I’ve said it, I’m still shocked.

"Not tonight." He says it as he presses his lips against my jaw, my throat, and the tender curve of my shoulder.

I need more. "Why not?"