Though it was new in every sense, kissing was not unlike facing a warrior in the pits. Matching parry for parry. Lunge for lunge. Anticipating and reacting. Knowing when to go on the offensive, when to conserve energy and wait for an opening. When to accept defeat.
“You weren’t sure you could trust me?” she asks, a hitch in her voice. “Why not?”
“Not you. Myself. It takes all my effort not to drag you away from any male who captures your attention. Today was...trying.”
I had to distract myself with my duties so I was forced to stay away, though I demanded regular reports from all who had contact with her. I know who she talked to, what was said, how many pots of salve she simmered and how many spans ofbandages she rolled. I know what she ate and the stories she told, and still it wasn’t enough to put my mind at ease.
“Nik,” she says hesitantly, stepping toward me. “Is there something you want to tell me? Something I should know about...me and you?”
My first thought is that Fenix has betrayed me, told her what I revealed to him in confidence. But then I realize he couldn’t have. Delphie hasn’t commed anyone today. If she had, I would have received a report. Perhaps she just suspects my feelings for her are beyond mere attraction. My obsession with her is painfully obvious to everyone at this point.
“Yes. We should eat,” I deflect, motioning to the meal I prepared. Delphie nods, pulling off her boots before crawling up into the furs to sit cross-legged beside the tray.
I fill a bowl with kuresh and hand it to her, watching hungrily as she takes a bite. It’s not the prospect of tasting the delicate, expensive leaves that gnaws at my insides, though they are delicious. It’s the way her lips work, the way her tongue slips out to draw them into her mouth. It’s not even that I will think of our kisses every time I see her lips. I just like seeing her eat, knowing her needs are met. It pleases me.
“Mm,” she says, giving me a tense, close-mouthed smile. She holds out the bowl, offering it to me, but I shake my head.
“Eat your fill.” I sit so the tray is between us and lean against the wall, content to watch.
“You have to eat, too,” she protests when she’s eaten half the kuresh. “I don’t want to be the only one stuffing my face.”
I take a tili wafer to placate her. She puts down the bowl and does the same. I frown at her, confused. Why does she deny herself? I push the bowl toward her. “Finish this first. Tili wafers are designed to last forever. They’re stale by design, so they’ll be the same tomorrow.”
She sighs, picks up the bowl, and stares into it. Then she looks at me, biting her lip. “I have a confession. I’m not a huge fan of green vegetables. I know I should eat them because they’re good for me, but it just makes me think of eating grass. Like I’m alahn-moh-her, just chewing up the turf.”
“What?” I don’t understand half of what she’s said. “You have eaten kuresh every day.”
“I know. I ate it because I know Ishould, but I kind of hate the taste. Do you really like it?” The bridge of her nose wrinkles.
I swallow my amusement. Here I’ve been giving her all my fresh herb rations and going without, when she has had to force herself to eat it. “It is my favorite food.”
Her shoulders shake with laughter. “Right, leafy greens are your favorite. That makes perfect sense somehow. Take it. Eat it. Enjoy.” She nudges the bowl toward me.
This time, I oblige, and the fragrant leaves release their peppery, fruity flavor over my tongue. Pure indulgence that makes me groan with pleasure.
Delphie shoots me a look. “Sir. You can’t make sounds like that while you’re eating.”
“Why not? I can’t help it when it tastes so good.”
“Because.” Her gaze slides to my mouth, and the intoxicating scent of her arousal perfumes the air. “It makes me feel some type of way.”
I think I know the way she is talking about. The way that made me spill in my trousers last night.
“Delphie,” I growl, setting aside the bowl. “Come here. Now.”
Her eyes go wide. “What?”
“I need Lesson One.” I reach out, circle her ankle with my finger and thumb, and drag her toward me.
She arrives in my lap openmouthed and on her back. “You already finished it. Lesson One is over.”
I trace the outline of her tempting lips with one claw. “Lessons aren’t complete without practice. Every apprentice knows he must practice diligently until the skill is like breathing. Instinctive. Infallible. You will indulge me in this practice, as all warriors indulge their apprentices.”
“Okay?” She stares up at me, and I drink in the sight of her brown, heart-shaped face with its wideset, dark eyes. Her full lips that quirk up at the corners. The whisper of hair that velvets her scalp. Each part of her is unique and precious as a jewel. Precious because she’s mine forever, and even more precious because she’s only mine for now.
I release her ankle, wrapping the same hand around the back of her neck, and bend over her to brush my lips against hers. She exhales gently into my mouth, breath scented with kuresh, so I press deeper, tasting her. She’s fresh and sweet with a hint of nuttiness from the tili wafers, too, and I can’t get enough. It pulls the same sounds out of me she forbid before, but she doesn’t tell me to stop.
Like a worthy opponent, she is learning me, too. Every foray of her tongue is a question I’m happy to answer. Yes, I want you. Yes, that makes me burn. I’d like to repeat Lesson One every day for weeks. Just this, just her lips on mine, her tongue questioning and mine answering, sharing breath. My trousers are suddenly too tight, and I’m in danger of embarrassing myself like a greenling again if I don’t slow down.
