Page 98 of Kneel Before Me

The next time she went to the cave, Daphne waited until they were once more seated on his bed in his chambers before saying, “Why haven’t you touched me?”

He blinked but didn’t answer.

Daphne tried a different question. “Do you regret what we did?”

“No.”

“Then why haven’t we done it again?”

Kronos sighed. Daphne couldn’t tell what kind of a sigh it was—whether he was simply exasperated or something worse.

“I am a danger to you, Daphne,” he said. “Everything about you beckons to me. I can smell your skin, your sweat”—his eyes flicked between her legs—“your wetness.”

“What does it smell like?” she asked before she could stop herself.

Kronos paused, his eyes still on her center. Daphne could feel herself blushing, suddenly terrified of what he might say. Had she really just asked what her wetness smelled like? Yet she desperately wanted to know.

“It smells…divine.”

It was a notable descriptor. He could have said anything: delectable, tempting, alluring. But he had chosen a word that meant holy. Godlike. It wasn’t a word Daphne was used to hearing in association with herself. But somehow, when it came from his lips, she believed it.

“Do you want to taste me?” she whispered. His eyes flicked to hers.

“Yes.”

It wasn’t an offer, nor was it an invitation. Daphne merely wanted to know. Kronos seemed to understand this, because he didn’t move. Yet his affirmation sat between them, and Daphne savored it. If this was what it was like to resist having sex, she found she rather enjoyed it. She’d never waited like this before. There was never any emotional foreplay with any of the village boys. There was barely any physical foreplay either. Daphne like the delayed gratification. The buildup was already so pleasurable—surely the act would also be…divine.

Daphne could tell Kronos was thinking about it too. His eyes were completely black, and they’d drifted back down to her center. Smoke curled over his shoulders, rising from his skin. She reached out to touch him, running her fingers down the curve of his bicep, tracing a vein along the length of his forearm. She could feel every pulse of his blood beneath his skin. She fought the urge to lean down and lick the vein. Kronos shuddered when she reached his wrist. His skin would be sensitive there, hard tendons displayed just beneath the surface. Daphne slid her fingers across his palm, slotting them between his. Kronos completed the motion, gripping her hand tightly.

“You didn’t answer my first question,” she whispered. “Why haven’t you touched me again?”

“I do not trust myself not to hurt you.”

Daphne frowned. Kronos had the most self-restraint of anyone she had ever met. He was stoic—a calm, grounding force. She trusted him with her life. “You won’t hurt me. I told you I won’t break.”

He touched the tip of his finger to her jaw, tracing it to her lips. “It is not worth the risk.”

“Then what are we even doing?” she whispered. “Why am I here?”

He sighed again. “You are here because I need to see you.”

Need. Not want.

“Please,” she whispered. “Touch me.”

Kronos looked as if he were in immense pain. She understood that this was difficult for him, but it was difficult for her too. Now that she had a taste of what it felt like to be with someone she had feelings for, she wanted nothing more than to do it again.

“You need power. You said so yourself.”

He shook his head. “That is not a good enough reason to put you in danger.”

“Nothing dangerous happened last time.”

“That is because I was holding back. It took enormous effort to do so.”

Daphne shifted closer as his eyes turned black. “I trust you,” she whispered. “Why can’t you trust yourself?”

Kronos stared at her, smoke already seeping from his skin. Daphne couldn’t help but wonder what it would be like if he hadn’t held back. The thought of getting hurt was scary, but not enough to deter her from being with him. Besides, she didn’t really believe he would hurt her. Kronos was too composed—too disciplined to let anything bad happen.