He chuckled. “That as well, though I still try to pull my weight—at least a little.” He drew her wrist to his lips and this time—ah. She near melted as he first planted soft kisses on the joint before moving to licks. Hannah’s toes curled. She might have moaned too.
Another laugh from him, a dark, rumbling one that tightened every muscle in her body. He moved his fingers to the buttons on her cuff, raising his brows.
She should say no. She didn’t.
“I finished making a cap today,” he told her as he unfastened her cuff, rolling up her sleeve. “Only took the better part of four days. My crocheting is a touch slow.”
His lips connected with her skin once more and she sighed.
“And I peeled vegetables,” he added as he moved down to her elbow.
“A regular person now, aren’t we?” she managed between gasps. “No more the would-be dandy?”
“Would that make you kiss me?” he asked, lifting his head.
“I—” She blinked at him because, god, she wanted to, needed to, but shouldn’t, really shouldn’t.
But her head appeared to no longer be in control of her body. She gave him a soft push back before cupping his chin this time and—blast, he tasted so good—tart and sweet, and spicy, like apples and cinnamon and wine, and lust. She drank him in, lightning shooting through her body as he wrapped his arms around her back, holding her to him.
“Was that so bad?” he asked as she came up to breathe, lest she swoon. Though if she did, what a way to go.
Yes.And the more it happened, the more painful losing him would be. Though she feared it was already too late—that she’d be damaged irreparably once they parted.
“No,” she lied out loud, shaking her head. She took a deep breath. “And it wasn’t before. But that’s the problem.”
“Why is that the problem?” he asked, his brow pinched.
“See, this is why I shouldn’t kiss you.” She pushed up even though he did not let go. “When I do, I get all muddled. I stop thinking rationally. I want impossible things. Or worse, I start fooling myself into believing they’re possible.” Her throat thickened. “And if I do that…”
He reached up and brushed back her hair. “If you do that, what?” he asked, his voice soft.
“I’ll pursue them. When I shouldn’t. I need to put an end to us once and for all. Because that’s what’s right for both of us.” And something burned behind her eyes. “Being with me—it’ll cost you everything you’ve beenworking for. You can pretend you want me for more than this—convince yourself that you’ll be happy that way—but in the end, when you live the life that I entail, you’ll come to resent me. If my world doesn’t kill you first. You say you love me, but I promise you, that love will turn to hate if you go down this path.”
“Hannah—” he started, but she put a finger to his lips.
“Don’t, Sol. You know as well as I do that it’s true.” She took a deep breath. “You need to let me go.” She swallowed. “When this is over—when you are well and safe, I want you to be happy. To live a good life. With someone who can give you what you need. What you deserve.” She gritted her teeth. “The community is lucky to have you back. You belong there and you belong in the world your brother is entering, at his side. Please, take your due.”
He ran his thumb down her cheek, as she, like she’d done so many times in the past, willed back her tears. Remaining strong. No matter the pain.
“I don’t know the correct words—the ones which will right everything. And I’m stuck in here so there are very few ways I could do to show you right now. But if you just give me time, give us time…” He shook his head. “Let this”—he pressed a hand to his chest—“letmespeak this way, let me show you this way.”
And she couldn’t say no. Not to him, not when he looked at her with such longing and sheer will that all her ramparts began to crumble. With a single nod, she obeyed, allowing him to hitch her skirts all the way up so her thighs above her worn garters were exposed.
Gazing into her eyes with stern determination, he stroked the skin between her stockings and garters, hislips only quirking when she finally permitted herself a soft moan, even as her body screamed and begged for more. Almost in a trance, she fiddled with the front of her gown, squeezing, pressing her hands against her now aching nipples.
“There we go, beautiful. Those feel better now, don’t they?” he whispered, gripping her side. “It drives me wild when you do that, by the way. I could watch you touch yourself for hours.”
But thankfully, he didn’t.
“Please, Hannah,” he said as he slid one finger into her, and then a second, and a third, between her now wet folds, still watching her face. “Give me this, just once more.”
She whimpered as he brushed her curls aside, finding the nub with his thumb, circling it. And in what seemed like mere moments, his ministrations turned her entire body into an inferno of need. He quirked an eyebrow as she gasped, her body teetering on the edge, nearly shaking with pleasure.
“So this is good?” he asked, the damned momzer pausing. “Tell me if it’s good.”
“You know it’s good,” she told him, her voice a strangled cry as she moved one of her hands lower to replace his, but he caught her wrist.
“And you’d like more?” he asked, a smile playing on his lips, somehow both smug and endearing. And intoxicating. But more than that. Somehow, no matter how hard she’d fought it, the dratted man had battered his way into places she’d permitted no one in years.
