I gave him a soft kiss, pushing through my uncertainty and absent confidence and moving my lips against his in the hope it was good enough.
Then he smiled against my mouth, not in a cruel joke, but in smitten amusement. His hand returned to my hair, and he kissed me. Really kissed me. Kissed me like…the stories I’d read. With passion and desperation, with roaming hands all over my body, with breaths that filled my lungs.
His lips parted mine, and he turned slightly, taking my mouth from another angle before he pulled my bottom lip into his mouth for a gentle bite. A move that left me breathless before he kissed me again and made me weak. His hand moved to my ass, and he squeezed it through my pants—I liked it.
Then he gave me his tongue, something I’d never experienced before. Purposeful and properly executed, the kiss felt so good. My fingers moved into his hair, and I felt the veins up his neck. I mimicked his movements and returned my tongue, and I felt his hand go to my throat and squeeze gently.
Oh fuck.
His kiss deepened as his other hand slipped under my shirt up my bare back, his warm fingers exploring my flesh before theyreturned to my ass. Our embrace turned breathless, the two of us burning hotter than the fire in the stone hearth.
It was the single most exhilarating moment of my life.
He was the one who ended it, because if he hadn’t, it would have gone on forever. He looked into my face for a hard moment, that same intensity back, like he wanted to take me to bed right there.
Instead, he let me go and stepped back to the door. He didn’t say goodnight or address the following day. He just let himself out, let me stand there alone with the fire to replace his warmth.
I was up early.
I didn’t sleep well the night before. I’d barely slept at all. I could feel the mark of his kiss all over my mouth. Feel the burn like he was still there. When I reached the Gathering, I was the only one there. I got to work on making arrows, finding slender branches and carving them to the perfect slenderness and weight. It was hard to recreate something I didn’t know well, but if I made something, Morco and Caius could improve it.
People woke up and joined the Gathering, and soon breakfast was served. Now we had food to serve for every meal. The meat would go bad soon, but if we didn’t find a substitute, the potatoes would be enough. One of the girls serving breakfast brought me a bowl of stew even though everyone else got in line.
I told myself I didn’t care about anyone’s opinion, but now that I was accepted, I realized how much I did care. How comfortable it was not to have a target on your back, not to worry if you were a burden or a hindrance.
Caius joined me and silently ate his stew. I took it as a compliment that we didn’t talk, that we didn’t need to talk. That was how comfortable our conversation had become. He just watched me work on carving the wood into the perfect arrow.
“The babies will be here soon, right?” I asked.
“Yeah. Not much longer now.” He glanced over his shoulder to the women who sat together, all of them pregnant.
“Are you nervous?”
“It’s the circle of life.” He shook his head as he finished his bite. “My parents had me before they were killed. And I need to have a child before I’m next.”
His feelings about the matter were hard to gauge. I decided to leave it alone. Especially when I spotted Morco enter the Gathering, strong and confident, like the sickness hadn’t almost claimed his body and mind.
He acknowledged a few of the guys at the tables and spoke to a few others. He didn’t grab a bowl of stew before he headed to our table at the edge. When his eyes found mine, they stayed locked in place, like I was his only target.
My lips burned. My heart fluttered. I wanted him close but feared the proximity would only make me ache more.
He took the seat across from me, arms resting on the table, and with his eyes still on mine, he extended his hand like he had other times.
I didn’t hesitate before I placed my hand in his.
His fingers enveloped mine, and he gave me a gentle squeeze.
It was such a simple touch, but it warmed my heart and set my body on fire.
His hand continued to clutch mine as he gazed upon me, that piercing stare so intimate it seemed like no one else was there. His thumb gently grazed my skin, and he gave me another squeeze before he pulled away.
Caius continued to eat his stew and looked elsewhere, trying to act like he didn’t see us exchange the affection.
The second Morco’s hand was gone, it hurt.
Morco finally broke eye contact and looked at the bow that was strained in place farther down the table. He examined it for a while before he looked at Caius then me. “You finished it.” A tone of pride was in his voice, unmistakable.
“We’re going to let it sit for another day,” Caius said. “Make sure it holds its shape.”
