Chapter Thirty-Seven
Briony
When I float back down to earth, his fingers are still buried deep inside me and I don’t think either of us wants him to remove them. His shadows and my light are still spinning around us in some kind of magical dance and I want more than anything to kiss him.
So I lean forward on my knees. Instinctually, he goes to slide his fingers away but I shake my head, inching closer.
His eyes are the darkest I’ve ever seen them and I feel like I could fall into them and never ever emerge.
“What are you doing?” he asks, as I draw closer.
“I’m going to kiss you.”
“Nini–” he begins but I shake my head again.
“Thorne, it’s okay, it’s going to be okay.” I smile at him. “You just touched me and made me come. You’re still touching me,” I say peering down and admiring where his fingers have disappeared inside me, the sight making me shiver. “A simple kiss isn’t going to blow up the world.”
“Baby steps,” he pleads. “I don’t want to hurt you.”
“Thorne,” I say, “we’re miles from our realm, out here in the middle of the demon wastelands, tonight a vampire nearly ripped out my throat. Tomorrow, we might meet our end. Kissing you is a risk well worth taking.”
His gaze drops to my mouth.
When he doesn’t argue again, I tip forward and press my lips gently to his.
This is all new to Thorne. He hasn’t touched another person in years. I am the first. And so he’s missed out on so much. His first kiss, his first time. Which means, as much as he’s watched from the sidelines, he’s never done it himself. He doesn’t know how. I’m going to have to teach him every step of the way.
Carefully, so I don’t spook him and have him shuffling away again, I lay my hand on his shoulder and then I close my eyes and move my lips against his.
This big, tough man – his shadows known throughout the realm for being deadly – makes the sweetest of little moans. I can’t help smiling.
“Briony,” he whimpers, his other hand coming to rest on my waist.
I caress his warm lips with mine and he understands, copying the action, returning the caress. His lips are both soft and strong. I’ve thought about kissing them so many times. But this is more perfect than my own feeble imagination ever allowed. It’s more real, his body warm in front of mine, his breath wet, his heart pounding.
I kiss him gently like this, learning the shape and the feel of his lips, understanding his mouth, and then I slip my tongue inside. His own tongue brushes against mine and he shudders.
I lean into him, kissing him a little harder, but then he pulls away.
I blink open my eyes. It takes me a moment to understand where I am and who I am.
“What’s wrong?” I ask, feeling a little hurt at his rejection. “Don’t you like it?”
“Briony,” he says, his face pained. “I’ve wanted to kiss you like that since the moment I met you.”
“Then kiss me again.”
His face, usually so blank and void of emotion, cringes before my eyes. “I don’t know if I’m doing this right. If I’m any good.”
“The kissing?”
His gaze falls between my thighs and, much to my disappointment, he slides his fingers out of me.
“All of it.”
“Thorne,” I tell him and when he refuses to meet my eyes, I say again, “Thorne, look at me.” He lifts his gaze. “It’s perfect. All of it, perfect.”
He scoffs in a depreciating manner as if he doesn’t believe me.
