That restraint felt unbearably intimate. I touched his face then, without thinking, my fingertips brushing his cheekbone. Fear leaned into the touch before he could stop himself. He turned his face to mine, his lips finding mine again in long, slow kisses.
I wanted him to feel chosen. That thought felt reckless and dangerous when I wasn’t ready to be his mate, not forever. But he deserved to feel loved, worthy, safe with me.
I couldn’t bear the distance between us anymore. I deepened the kiss, letting the raw need I felt for him come through my touch even if I could not find the words. I teased his lips apart and lapped into his mouth.
Heat unfurled fast and dizzying. He checked me with a hand on my cheek, pulling away slightly, and I felt as if I were falling back to earth, slightly dizzy and confused. Then he murmured, “I love kissing your mouth, but I want to taste you everywhere.”
My first impulse was to move us to coming together. But he had teased me about owing him, and he had brought it up for a reason. It felt reckless, but I tried to let my defenses fall a little more.
“I would like that very much.” My voice came out rougher than I expected, and his gaze sharpened.
He moved down my body, stopping to suck on my nipples, then tracing a line of kisses down my belly. Then he drew my underwear down as he moved down my thighs. I raised my hips to help me, and he rewarded me with a kiss against my thigh.
Fear settled himself between my thighs. He kissed the top of my mound, careful and reverent, and when my hips jerked, he smiled against my skin.
I almost reached for him. “You should let me?—”
“You should let me take care of you,” he interrupted, and he brushed his thumb over my mound, then down, teasing around my lips.
I made a small helpless sound, and his pupils dilated with need. I surrendered. He needed me to relax into being cared for, and I needed him. I let my legs fall open, even though it was hard for me to open myself like that, to be vulnerable.
“Please do,” I murmured. “Take care of me.”
His thumb circled through my folds. He watched me with a curious gaze, as if he was enjoying figuring out exactly what worked best on me. His thumb worked against me expertly, andI made another small, needy sound, my knees trying to close against the sensation pulling me toward my orgasm too sharply.
He paused to move up on the bed, leaning over my body. He pressed a soft kiss to my lips, slow and tender. I followed him when he pulled away, only to realize he had my wrists in his big hand. He gave me a devilish smile as his leg pinned mine, thigh over thigh. “You’re going to let me take care of you for once?”
I laughed at that, though it trailed into breathlessness as his hand slid between my thighs again. My voice came out thready. “You take care of me all the time.”
His gaze flew to mine, and for a split second, there was a flash of genuine surprise across his face. Something wrenched inside me to think that he felt unseen despite all he did.
But there was nothing for me to say. His hand was against me, working steadily, and I was cresting higher and higher, rising toward my orgasm.
Then abruptly, he cursed—a desperate, needy sound—and he sank between my thighs. His arms wrapped my thighs, drawing them onto his shoulders, locking around my legs so that I could not escape him. His tongue traced a wet, hot stripe up, and my back arched. I almost saw stars.
“Fear. Gods. Fear.” I was babbling, but it only seemed to drive him to greater efforts as his mouth went to work on my clit. His tongue thrust inside me, his mouth sucking, as if every sound I made spurred him on. I tensed, my hips trying to rise, but there was no escaping his grip.
Then, suddenly I was shattering around his mouth. I wasn’t sure I was even saying his name anymore. Now I did see stars.
When I was done shaking against his mouth, and I collapsed into the pillows, hot and sated, he moved back up to kiss me. His mouth was warm, and he pulled away just far enough to murmur, “It’s not a debt when it brings me such joy watching you writhe against my tongue.”
My cheeks flushed slightly. I was definitely no prude—I had tried to take my pleasure with the village boys, for as well as that had worked—but there was something about dirty talk that, for me, had always felt too exposed.
“Good,” I managed. “Because I think far too often about how much I’d like your mouth against my body. You’ll be busy during perfectly respectable things, mapping out plans and talking to Bismyth, and you bend your head, and all I can think is how good your head looks between my thighs.”
He grinned, sharp and delighted. “You should tell me. Discreetly, of course.”
“I don’t think there’s anything that discreet about the way I look at you, Fear.”
His gaze sharpened. He seemed to love even my clumsy attempts, and I resolved to continue in the future.
“Come and fuck me, please,” I murmured, catching his shoulders.
Fear brought his mouth to mine again, kissing me tenderly as I slid my hands down the hard, heated planes of his body until I found his underwear. I made an attempt at dragging them down, and he smiled against my mouth and helped me.
Eagerly, I reached for his cock. His breath stuttered when I caught him and guided him toward my entrance.
I teased him through the slick there. “See what you do to me?”
