“You don’t mean that.”
“I don’t,” she said. “But that doesn’t mean I shouldn’t.”
“Noted.” He stripped off his nightshirt and joined her naked in bed. He rolled toward her, placed the flat of one hand on her abdomen, and cradled his head with the other. Her flesh was smooth and warm, and there was a gentle rise and fall as she breathed. “Anything coming to you?” he whispered.
She huffed softly. “I suppose you could begin by kissing me.”
“Always a good start.” Roen flipped back the blankets and uncovered Lily’s breasts. Before she could do anything saveinhale sharply, his mouth was at the hollow of her throat and blazing a trail south.
Lily looked down at herself the moment she could and saw that her nipples were already standing at attention. Honesty prevented her from blaming the chill because there wasn’t any. Shewantedhim to put his mouth there. It was nothing other than anticipation and excitement that made her breasts swell and her nipples harden.
He had kissed her there before, laved her aureole through her nightshift, but this was different. This was her naked breast and the damp, rough pad of his tongue, gently abrasive, and because this was Roen, gently persuasive. Her fingers threaded in his hair when he began to suck. The pleasure was exquisite. She hummed.
Roen lifted his head. “Like that, do you?”
In answer, she nudged his head toward the neglected breast and sighed contentedly when he found it. He lifted his head again, this time to stretch over her and cover her mouth with his. The kiss was tender at first, but that was only meant to tease. His lips darted to the corner of her mouth. He nibbled at her lower lip. His tongue swept the ridge of her teeth. It was when she moved restlessly under him that he deepened the kiss. He pressed his advantage by tilting his head and giving her the hard slant of his mouth.
His tongue darted and swirled around hers. There was hunger here and need and it touched her at her core, firing her senses, making them snap smartly. The kiss was humid; it tasted faintly of peppermint tea. He smelled of soap and, in her mind at least, improbably of snow. The scent of him lingered in her nostrils even after he moved away. It was the same with his touch; she felt it as warmth flickering on her skin after his fingertips had moved on.
His fingers circled her wrists and lifted her hands so they rested on either side of her head. His grip was firm, not tight. She didn’t fight him overtly, but he felt resistance and he released her. His thumbs brushed the delicate undersides of her wrists, and after a few moments she opened her eyes and looked into his.
“It’s all right,” she whispered. “It’s you.”
“It’s me,” he said. Dipping his head, he kissed her again, sweet and soft and straightforward, and then he started a second trail with his lips that began at her chin and ended when his mouth was between her thighs. He glanced up to make certain she was all right. Far from resisting, she had propped herself up on her elbows and was watching. The centers of her eyes were dark and wide and more than a little curious. His roguish grin answered the question she hadn’t asked. “Bend your knees,” he told her, and when she did, he lifted them so they rested against his shoulders. He lowered his head and parted her lips. His tongue darted across her clitoris, lightly at first, like his kiss, and then more firmly, also like his kiss.
Lily didn’t hum her pleasure this time; she gave a little cry that she tried to choke off. If he had asked for more suggestions, she wouldn’t have told him this. She didn’t know what it was except that the heat was intense and the pleasure was so fine, it was almost painful.
She rose on that swell of need and wanting until she was riding the crest again. Her fingers curled in the blankets under her as she pressed her shoulders back. She was almost there, wherever there was, and she could feel herself being urged toward the very edge of the plunge she wanted, needed, to take. Lily held her breath and dove. Her body shuddered in release, and for those few moments, she was rocked by sensations powerful enough to shatter her every thought, so when it was over, she knew nothing as much as her own contentment.
She stretched, smiled, when Roen moved from between her thighs to hover over her. Then he was inside her, and she welcomed that. He moved slowly at first, deeply, and when she contracted around him in a snug fist, he closed his eyes and held himself still. “Breathe,” she whispered, setting her hands on his shoulders. He did and began moving again. She waited for him to open his eyes, and when he did, she didn’t avert her gaze. “Beautiful man,” she whispered.
He shook his head. That made her smile again, this time indulgently because he just didn’t know. She touched his cheek, brushed it with her fingertips. She traced the hard line of his jaw. Something, perhaps it was the sudden, purposeful lift of her hips, or the way she softly spoke his name, drove hisnext hard thrust. His rhythm changed. His movements were urgent now, as if they not merely needed, but also necessary. She went with him, glad that she could, glad once again that she was free to choose this, and when he climaxed and spilled his seed, it was joyous.
Roen made to roll on his side, but Lily stopped him, wrapping her arms and legs so he was temporarily her captive. “Not just yet,” she said, and then more softly, “Not just yet.” So he stayed. She felt his breathing calm and his heartbeat slow and was comforted by both. She slowly unfolded and he moved away but didn’t go far. They lay naked on their backs on top of the covers, staring at the ceiling and smiling stupidly with satisfaction. They traded glances once, and the timbre of their shared laughter was in excellent harmony.
“God,” Roen said feelingly.
“Mm,” Lily murmured. “Me first.” She rolled out of bed and went to the basin to wash. Her nightgown lay on the floor at her feet, and she left it there until she was ready to return to bed.
“Reckless, brazen woman,” Roen said, trading places with her at the nightstand.
Lily gave him a cheeky, over-the-shoulder grin and shimmied into her shift before she dove under the covers. She was already nesting, huddled on her side with her knees drawn up by the time he extinguished the lamp and slipped in beside her.
Roen bumped her knees with his when he also drew them up. He found her hand in the dark, but he didn’t thread his fingers through hers. Instead, he took her wrist, and as he had done earlier, his thumb brushed back and forth across the underside. His hand moved higher and did the same over her forearm.
“Tell me about these scars,” Roen said. He felt Lily grow very still. “I can hardly feel them, they’re so faint, but I saw them.” When she remained silent, he asked, “Did he do this to you?” This time he waited her out.
“No,” she said at last. “I did.”
The scars were horizontal and spaced closely together. They rose like the rungs on a ladder from the base of her wrist halfway to her elbow. There was a similar pattern of scars on her other arm. “You wanted to kill yourself?”
“No!” She drew in a breath. “No,” she said more quietly. “I did it because it made me feel better. I have no other explanation.”
He thought about that, tried to imagine how it could possibly be true and couldn’t. “I don’t understand.”
“Neither do I, but it’s what I did and how I felt.” Her voice rose slightly. “You shouldn’t have left the lamp burning. You shouldn’t have wanted to see me naked. I have scars on my belly, too. Do you want to know about them?”
“Lily,” he said gently. “You haven’t hidden your children from me. I know what those marks are, and they’re not scars.” He let her break free of his loose grip. She didn’t turn away or even turn on her back. She remained on her side facing him and tucked her arms together. “Do you still cut yourself?”
