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“I’ll make it up to you now.” Scooping some of the cum off his thigh with his fingers, he says, “Lie back.”

“I don’t know. I’m, like, really sensitive right now.”

“But not in pain?”

I shake my head.

“I’ll be gentle. Lie back.”

As I get situated, Khaos repositions himself so he’s sitting sideways on the lounger.

“Are you planning on going off birth control anytime soon?”

Once I’m reclined, he pulls one thigh away from the other, spreading me wider to him.

“Um. Not as long as I’m cheering. It helps keep my periods light.” I have to perform regardless of what phase of my cycle I’m in. If I can keep the bleeding to a minimum, I’m going to.

The first brush to my clit with his cum makes me hiss. True to his word, Khaos is gentle, slowly massaging the swollen nub, all while watching me for my reaction. Seeing I’m fine, he dips one well-lubricated finger inside my pussy. The intrusion is so slight compared to what I just went through that I almost exhale in relief.

Relaxing, I focus on the sensation of Khaos’s finger leisurely reawakening my desire. He’s so tender, so cautious. Everything he does feels good. He’s not selfish and he’s not unnecessarily rough.

I would always blame Guy’s shortcomings on lack of experience—we were each other’s firsts and I thought only—but that’s not the case with Khaos. He was right. He knows what he’s doing and he does it very well.

“Then we won’t use condoms, and I’ll never pull out of you again,” Khaos promises.

Guy’s indiscretions in mind, I blurt out, “That means you can’t have sex with anyone else…while you’re with me.”

Frowning, Khaos gives a headshake. “No, Kota.”

My heart stops, followed by the rest of my body, all the other organs refusing to operate without it. No? What does he—

“The fact that I’m yours means I won’t fuck anyone else. With or without condoms, I got everything I want right here.” The barest hint of a smile curves his lips as he lowers his head between my thighs, then he’s swirling his tongue around my clit, reminding me once again that he’s nothing like my ex. Thank God.

His finger never speeds up and his tongue never stops bathing my clit in luscious attention. The rosy glow of an orgasm forms in steady increments. It’s slow and delicate, and as it unfolds like a flower in the spring, I let out a soft sigh.

For the first time ever, I realize sex isn’t only frenzy and blind need. It can also be thoughtful and serene.

Sleepy and so content I could cry, I watch Khaos kiss his way up my stomach, his new journey just as unhurried.

“Am I forgiven?” he whispers once he reaches my ear, the tickle of his breath against my skin setting off goose bumps.

“Mm-hm.”

Sitting up, Khaos takes my hand, straightens my pointer finger out, and quickly dips it into my wetness. He then uses it to either draw shapes or write words out just under his collarbone. I can’t tell. It’s long though. Then with his middle finger, he takes another swipe at the cum on his thigh before tracing something similar on my lower abdomen.

“What is that?”

“My name.”

“On both of us?”

“Just on you. Your name’s on me.” He pats the spot he supposedly wrote my name.

Studying the skin there, a memory comes to mind.

Oh, God. I did that. Last night. I think… Is that what I did on the way up the stairs? Khaos was carrying me… I’m not sure why. Could I not walk? But then I signed my name on his chest and said something stupid about wanting to die there. Wanting to die? There? Ugh.

“I’m never drinking again,” I say through a wince.