He gasped. “Are you alright? We can?—"
I pulled myself up to sit facing him, closer. “I’m fine,” I got out. His mind was fighting for control, very focused on my thighs open around him, my face so close to his.
He shook his head, like his ears were ringing. “Are you sure- Ro?—"
I stopped his mouth with mine and kissed him again, deep, and then there were no thoughts anymore. Khal was mine, and he wanted me. I repeated it over and over, in my heart, as we kissed, as we tore each other closer, as everything else was blocked out and left behind.
And clothing was suddenly an unbearable burden, the texture between his hands and me grotesque. I started to pull up the shift, and his hands were next to mine, pulling it off over my head. I’d been so afraid, once, that I wouldn’t be what he expected, what he’d want. Now as his mouth devoured me, as his hands moved and his pulse surged under my touch, I didn’t worry at all.
Our thoughts melded into one, his need, my need, the way our bodies caught at each other, the rhythms of each other's breaths. The way he gasped when my hands trailed downwards, the way I did when his mouth found my breast.
“Khal,” I got out. And now it was a plea, because words were hard for me too. “Please. You are wearing…far too many pants.”
He didn’t argue with me. I tumbled off, so he could strip.
That flickering torchlight gleamed off our skin in star-smattered patterns, like rain across glass, and this was my first time seeing him unclothed in light. He watched me, like he was waiting for something, like he was bracing himself, like I’d fly away.
“It's pretty,” I said. I’d thought he would be smaller. It was hard to imagine the inside of me holding all of him. But I didn’t want to say that. “You’re pretty.”
“You’re pretty,” he said, husky. He swallowed. And he waslooking at me like he didn’t know where to touch, where to hold, like suddenly all of me was glass again. I felt that fear, his discipline closing in.
I was a little afraid too. I wanted him, so much that I thought that pain might be okay again, but the fear was still there.
I guided him back onto the bed and knelt, moving over him, and his hands found my hips, like he’d steady me, or push me back, I wasn’t sure. He wasn’t sure. His eyes were fixed on me. His pupils were so dark, so wide. God, I wanted him.
“Khal?” I squeaked out. My voice sounded so odd, trembly and odd. “You told me once…I could imagine someone else, if I wanted.”
Recognition echoed in his face, pain, but he stayed with me, didn’t dip back more than an instant into those images, that grief.
“I wanted you to know…there’s no one else. I just want you. I only want you.”
And I focused on his eyes, on the way he beheld me like I was some wonder, like I was prettier than the light that danced on the stones or the glowing star-moss in the trees, like I was what he wanted. I focused on his face, and I found where we belonged together.
My hands tightened on his shoulders at the first try, the pain, a little, choking gasp. He supported my weight.
It took him a moment to find words. “We could…we could stop,” he said. “That’s the oath. It would be enough…”
“Kiss me.” I leaned in, and his mouth opened to me again. He was gentle, as steady as he was hesitant, strong as he was careful. And I felt the fear in my body slip back, let go, as we melted together. His breath caressed my cheek, and I finally had all of him. “It doesn’t hurt,” I murmured. That concern didn’t change in his face, his eyes, and I leaned in to kiss him again. “It doesn’t. I’ve wanted you…so much.”
At that, the breath escaped from him, his grip tightening. “That’s good. I…” words scattered from him, our joining driving everything back in the shifting colors of his thoughts.
“You wanted me too,” I murmured.
He nodded.
“Can we…”
He nodded, and I squealed as he lifted me up.
“Yes,” he said. “God, yes.”
And I was so glad for the magic dancing over and under my skin, for the power thrumming through us as we slipped and slid and I clung to him, for the way nothing felt like threads anymore. I didn’t feel like I was connected to him; I felt like we were melded together, his desire and my desire, caution and recklessness and delight. And when we missed and I fell off, laughing, and we had to try again, he was Khal, the way I lost myself in his eyes, the way all of him focused on me and on this. I felt when an injury twinged, moved before he responded himself. I felt when he wanted me closer, when there was something more I could give.
Maybe it was the power building inside of me, this buzz along my skin, this awareness of every touch and breath that melted as it was my feelings, his feelings, reaching a pitch that was almost pain, till I was clinging to him and crying out as he gasped, and arched, and warmth flowed over me in waves, like an avalanche of stars. Till everything in me that had held tight relaxed, limp against his chest. Heat. More, and more, and more.
I tangled my fingers in his hair. He was breathing hard, looked down at me, pressed into his side. “You’re alright?” he said, hoarse.
I nodded. “Better. You?” Words seemed really hard.
