His thumbs smoothed over the backs of her hands in a motion Vi couldn’t be certain was entirely conscious. Taavin listened intently and was silent when she finished. Vi braced herself for his reaction and readied herself to send him away before he could turn his back on her.
“Vi Solaris,” he murmured softly. Nothing had ever sounded more delightful than her name gliding across his tongue. A name that she hadn’t heard in so long, it made her ache. “You have done nothing wrong. The burden on you is one that no one can understand, not even I. And you handle it with all the grace of your forefathers. You do your parents proud.”
She hung her head as her face twisted in pain. Somehow, he’d known exactly what she’d needed to hear. Every last holdout of her strength vanished and she leaned forward.
Her face buried into his shoulder; his arms wrapped around her. Vi dug her fingers into him, grabbing at the tunic he wore, trying to cross through the barrier that coated his skin like oil that she couldn’t wash away.
“I wish you were here,” she whispered.
“I am here.”
“I wish you were real,” Vi corrected, pulling away.
Taavin hooked her chin, his thumb pulling lightly on her lower lip. Through lowered lashes he murmured, “Let me show you how real I am.”
He pulled at her and she leaned forward. With a soft exhale, his lips brushed hers. She trembled at the barely-there touch. Slowly, he returned his mouth to hers in a toe-curling, tender kiss.
Vi’s hand balled into a fist. She wanted to yank him closer. She wanted him to kiss her until her head spun and she was breathless. Yet she couldn’t move. She was putty under his shifting hands.
One hand caressed her cheek. His fingertips ran along the edge of her ear—as though he was as fascinated with their differences as she was. His other hand ran up her side, boldly tracing the outline of her breast, but not lingering. It joined the other and he held both sides of her face, kissing her more firmly now.
She leaned back. It was an invitation, one he accepted. Taavin crawled onto the bed and on top of her.
“Say my name again,” Vi whispered as their lips parted briefly.
“Vi Solaris,” he obliged, husky and deep.
“Tell me you love me,” she demanded.
“I love you. I have only ever loved you. I will only ever love you.”
Vi pulled him down onto her. She caressed his back and savored what warmth and weight she could feel. Taavin kissed the soft flesh of her neck, a feather-light trail that ran up behind her ear and back down to her collarbone.
“I can’t feel you like I once did,” she confessed dejectedly. “Now the sword is gone, and I fear I never will again.”
He pulled away, propping himself to hover over her. Vi trailed her fingers down his face and chest. She didn’t know how much was forced imagination spiced by longing, and how much was truly tactile sensation.
“It’s not the same,” he admitted, and the admission hurt more than she expected.
“But your words sound as they always have.” Vi shifted away, inviting him instead to lie next to her. The space between them made her ache instantly, but even when he curled around her, that distance didn’t truly vanish.
She needed him in a way she’d never needed anyone.
In a way she didn’t think she’d ever be able to have again. Why hadn’t they made the most of their brief moments together in Risen?
“Tell me,” she murmured, her eyes sinking closed as she rested her head on his chest. “Have we ever made love?”
“What?” His whole body went tense.
“Before, perhaps?” She didn’t have to say,before I killed you. “In one of the other worlds?” There could’ve been another Vi who was bolder than her on Meru. Or a Vi who found his current form to be enough to touch, and kiss, and explore in ways she couldn’t bring herself to no matter how much her body burned with want for him. The feeling of him not really being with her was too great a barrier to cross. “Did we embrace as true lovers?”
Vi tilted her head up when he didn’t immediately respond. Taavin looked at her with those same lusty eyes. He was seeing something that told her the answer before his lips did.
“Yes.”
“Tell me of it?” she breathed. “Tell me how I felt. Tell me how we moved. How you touched me. I want to hear it all.” If she couldn’t experience it, she would live vicariously through another version of herself.
“Are you certain?” He shifted uncomfortably.
