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When he broke the kiss, he nibbled her jaw, her ear—taking time to lightly tease the points which made her cry out—and even slowly tortured with nips and licks where her neck met her shoulder. Her pulse thundered, calling to him, making his fangs ache to pierce her soft flesh.
"Stone," she murmured and then pulled his head back up to kiss her.
He cupped her cheek with one hand and used the other to pull up her skirts. Once they were at her waist, he moved to stand closer, until her wet, hot cunt pressed against his aching trouser-clad cock.
Leave it to his fae witch to be naughty and not wear underthings.
Fuck.It wouldn't take much to undo his trousers and slide right into her.
But then his conscience niggled at the back of his mind. Was she an innocent?
If so, she deserved better than a quick tupping on a table in the small parlor.
Breaking the kiss, he laid his forehead against hers and took a second to catch his breath.
Reika asked breathlessly, "Why did you stop?"
"You deserve better than me fucking you on a table."
She ran a hand down the front of his chest, lingering to play with the buttons on his waistcoat. Each small movement made him want to groan.
She had a bloody magical touch, that was for sure.
"Look at me, Stone." Once he did, she searched his eyes and lightly traced his cheek. "This is usually something I'd share later, but as I mentioned before, we're pressed for time. In the future, virginity isn't such a huge thing. I've been with males before."
At first, jealousy and anger coursed through him. He didn't like the thought of another male touching her.
But then it sank in what the truth of her words truly meant—he wouldn't have to try to be slow and gentle, two things that weren't in his nature at all.
He liked it fast, and hard, and intense. That was the opposite of what he'd had to endure during his ten years as a slave.
Although imagining Reika naked and tied to their bed as he slowly kissed every inch of her body didn't turn him off. If anything, his cock turned harder.
Maybe with her, he didn't have to worry about the past or what had been, but rather could just live in the moment and enjoy it.
Maybe the right person changed everything.
Reika cupped his cheek. "Okay, talk to me. And yes, I know, you're not Mr. Chatty. But I didn't like the look that just flashed into your eyes. Tell me what's wrong."
He searched her dark brown eyes. The concern there unleashed a longing he'd never had before—to not hold back and hope the person didn't reject him.
"Stone, please. Just tell me."
Stepping back, he pulled down her skirt. Reika frowned, but he spoke before she could. "This isn't something I can do with your cunny on display."
She tilted her head and closed her legs. "So you'll tell me what you were thinking about?"
He nodded, put out a hand, and she took it. Once he helped her down and eased her into the chair at the table, he sat on the opposite side. If he was to get through this, then he couldn't risk her trying to touch and comfort him.
After sitting, he cleared his throat. "I may lose my voice from talking so much, but I'll try to get through this." She smiled briefly but then gestured for him to get going.
It looked like he was going to fucking do this.
Staring a second at Reika and getting lost in her eyes, he found the courage to start. "My mother was a whore who sold me at age nine to an illegal fight ring master."
She gasped and Stone looked away to the flame of one of the candles. Doing his best to keep the memories at bay, he continued, "She was a drunkard, and I was just something she could earn money from. I was good at begging when I was little, but by nine, I was getting too old to get much sympathy, let alone coin.
"And my father was one of her clients, someone who wanted nothing to do with me or her, so there was no assistance or help there. I never cared much as a child that I didn't have a father, or that I had to spend time asking people for food. I just wanted to try and make my mother happy."
