Hekate, the press of his toned body against my back sent ripples of pleasure through me.
“You’re trouble, little kitty. And you know it.”
“Wow,” Hector whispered into my ear, lips brushing my skin so tenderly I thought my cock would rip free of the too-tight boxers. “I haven’t heard you call me that in a while.”
“Do you want me to stop?”
Hector dragged a tongue down the curve of my ear, all the way to the base of my throat. Just when I thought he was about to skin teeth into my skin, he replied. “No. Actually, I want you to lean in close, and whisper it to me.”
“There are many other things I could be whispering to you, Hector Briar.”
“Is that so?”
More heat, more hardness… I could even sense something pressing into my back. “Kiss me?”
“You’re like a…” Hector stopped himself, gaze distracted. His expression sharpened as his eyes left mine, and landed on something I couldn’t see.
“What is it?” I tried to turn around, to shift Hector around until he was facing me, but it was no good. “What’s wrong?”
Soft, careful fingers brushed over the sensitive part on the back of my head. I’d forgotten about the wound there. Dread, and relief, uncoiled within me as Hector probed at it.
“When did this happen, Arwyn?” Hector’s tone was serious, as if I wasn’t getting out of answering it.
“I thought you didn’t want to talk about anything right now?” I shot back. Faced with the conversation I’d wanted to have suddenly made it hard to answer. “Not until we kiss.”
“It looks painful.” It was a statement, one I couldn’t argue with.
“Kiss me first, then I’ll explain.”
Hector’s exhale told me everything I needed to know. He was… worried. Perhaps a little frustrated. What made matters worse was the way he looked at me as I finally managed to turn around and face him. Before, his eyes had glanced over me in a hungry, devouring type of way. Now, he studied me in a new light. He was searching… looking for more wounds that he’d missed.
From the grimace that overtook his devilishly handsome face, I knew he’d found what he was looking for.
A cut over my brow. A fading bruise on my cheek. The smear of crusted blood in my hairline. Small marks that I’d tried to heal myself with a few spoken spells, but failed to entirely conceal. Only the wound on the back of my skull had been left as an afterthought.
“Didhedo this?” Hector practically growled.
I didn’t need Hector to say the name to know that he was talking about my father.
“No, darling.”I did it. My decisions, my choices. I lifted a dripping wet finger to my lips and tapped them. “Kiss first, tell after.”
Hesitantly, Hector obliged. After all, it was his rule. I closed my eyes, inhaling through my nose, as his soft mouth found mine. Colours danced in the darkness behind my eyelids, each one bright… each one an embodiment of the emotion that Hector made me feel with his kiss.
There was nothing starving about it. Nothing desperate or demanding of more. It was simple. It was perfect. I tilted my head, hands running up Hector’s chest, fingers dancing over his nipples and up to rest like a band around his throat. He moaned as our lips parted, and our tongues joined the fray.
Hector rested his arms over my shoulders. He anchored himself to me, back arching until his chest pressed into mine.
Then it stopped. He pulled away, worry creasing the lines across his forehead.
“Now tell me.”
I ran a tongue over my swollen mouth, devouring every last scrap of Hector’s taste, using it as an elixir to give me the strength to face the truth. Dutch courage, that’s what people called it. Drinking hard liquor to give them the confidence to do, or say, something they’d usually shy away from.
Hector, his kiss, was exactly that for me.
“It wasn’t Tomin who hurt me,” I admitted, unable to ignore the slight widening of his eyes. The relief that washed over him wouldn’t last long though. “In fact, it was you in a twisted, fucked-up kind of way.”
Hector gasped, mouth flying open. I stopped him saying anything until I finished.
