Page 103 of Commander’s Mate

He closed his eyes.

The reaction went through me like a match strike.

He did not touch me.

I felt the effort in him. Felt it in the tremor under my palms, in the way his breathing slowed as if he were counting each inhale, in the disciplined stillness of a man who could kill with his hands and had chosen not to close them around me.

I rose onto my toes and kissed him.

The sound he made was not quite a groan and not quite my name. His hands lifted, stopped in the air, then settled carefully at my waist.

That shattered me more than hunger would have.

The kiss began soft because I made it soft. Then I opened my mouth, and he was there, all restraint burning at the edges. His tongue slid against mine, and the memory of the first kiss came roaring back with reinforcements. Heat dropped through me, thick and immediate. I fisted my hands in his uniform and pulled him closer.

I broke the kiss, breathing hard. His forehead rested against mine.

Behind us, Scarlet said, “I’m going to stand three feet farther down the hall. Door stays open.”

“Thank you,” I managed.

Zared’s eyes opened. “Do you want me to stop?”

“No.”

“Do you want the door closed?”

I looked toward the doorway. Scarlet was still visible, deliberately facing away now.

Not yet, I thought.

Then I thought of the conference room. The crying. The women with nowhere to sleep. The fact that privacy had become a luxury. The fact that choice did not have to look like fear.

“Yes,” I said.

Zared went still.

I touched his face. “I want the door closed. I want to keep talking. And I want you to kiss me again after it closes.”

He looked toward the hall. “Scarlet Andrews.”

She turned.

“Harper has asked for the door closed,” he said. “You may remain in the corridor. If she calls, the door will open to her voice or yours.”

Scarlet looked at me.

I nodded.

“You yell if you need me,” she said.

“I will.”

The door slid shut.

Zared did not move until I looked back at him.

“Now?” he asked.