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You know she hasn’t had sex before. She basically told you that.

The thought was a cold, sharp knife cutting through the heat of desire, prompting a near growl of anger. Because why should he care if she was a virgin or not? Why would it matter? He’d asked her to sleep with him and she’d said no, but here she was, kissing him as if she couldn’t get enough. He could lay her down right here on the carpet and take her, and she’d let him.

Yet still, no matter how hard he tried to suppress it, that thought remained, and before he knew what he was doing, he’d pulled away. Her hands slipped to the back of his neck, her fingertips brushing against his skin, scalding as tiny, burning embers. Her eyes were alight, a brilliant gold like a sunburst and he was hard. So hard he ached.

‘I only asked for a kiss,’ he said roughly. ‘You don’t have to give me any more than that.’

She blinked, clearly as caught up in the haze of desire as he was. ‘What?’

‘I want you, Liberty. But you’ve already given me that kiss.’

She flushed, her freckles standing out, and he gazed at them, thinking how beautiful they were. ‘Oh…’ She sounded dazed, and something in him growled with satisfaction at his effect on her.

Years and years ago, Neve had wanted him, but sex for her was a bodily need she had to satisfy, never something intimate. He could touch her, make her come, but she’d always kept a part of herself separate from him. A piece of her soul had remained detached and distant and remote as a star. Even after he’d got over his ill-advised infatuation with her, that piece of her had remained remote right up until her death.

But there was nothing remote about Liberty, nothing remote about the way she looked at him, as if every part of her was hungry for him in a way Neve never had been.

Kaius felt the silk of her hair between his fingers, the soft press of her breasts against his chest. She smelled sweet and summery, and suddenly he couldn’t think of anything else but covering himself with all that sweet summer heat. Having her look at him the way she was doing now as he gave her pleasure.

He bent his head again, brushing his mouth over hers once more and immediately her lips parted, letting him in. He explored her gently, slowly, and again she made a little sound deep in her throat, her body soft as melting candle wax against him.

‘I want more than a kiss,’ he murmured against her mouth. ‘God, Liberty, I want you. But you need to decide if that’s what you want, too.’ As soon as the words were out of his mouth, he knew that’s what he craved. More of this. More of her. And not only because he was desperate to be inside her, but also because he wanted to teach her, show her what her body was capable of. He’d never had an opportunity to give before—he’d only ever been taken from—but he wanted to give her this. He was good at this.

She leaned into him, her lips soft against his. ‘Okay.’ The word was breathy, husky. ‘Yes, I do. I want you, too.’

He wasted no time, lifting her into his arms and heading for the stairs. He could feel her attention on him as she lay against his chest, and when he looked down, her amber gaze was shadowed with desire. ‘You were right,’ she whispered. ‘I am a virgin.’

Protectiveness flooded through him. ‘That’s okay,’ he said. ‘I will make it good for you, I promise.’

She took a shaky-sounding breath and nodded, lying quiet as he took her upstairs and into his room. It was situated above the living area and had a balcony in front of the huge windows that looked out over the fjord. There was snow on the balcony, piled up against the glass of the window, making the room feel warm and cosy.

He carried her over to the big bed that stood on a small, raised plinth and set her down on the mattress. Then he knelt in front of her. She’d clasped her hands tightly together, betraying her nerves, so he took them and bent to press his mouth to her soft, warm skin.

She stared at him, perhaps not expecting him to be so gentle, but she didn’t pull her hands away. Her lips parted as he kissed the backs of her hands, and she watched him as if she couldn’t bring herself to look away. He liked that, liked the growing heat in her eyes. A heat that he wanted to stoke like a fire, build it gently, slowly, adding more and more until it blazed hot.

It made him even harder, thinking about it, made him aware, too, of this moment and low long it had been since he’d touched anyone at all, let alone this small, pretty woman. Months, weeks, days… Every second felt like a weight pressing him down. But if there was one thing he was very good at, it was detaching himself, and so he ignored the need. Ignored his own desperate craving and turned her hands over in his, delivering a kiss to each palm.

Then he raised his head and, keeping his gaze on hers, he reached for the hem of her bulky red jumper and lifted it. She put her arms up over her head automatically, letting him pull it off her. Underneath she wore a T-shirt with a long-sleeved thermal beneath it, so he took his time uncovering her, unwrapping her like a Christmas present.

She didn’t speak, her breathing getting faster as he finally pulled the thermal over her head, leaving her in a plain, white cotton bra. She was flushed now, a pretty pink stain spreading down her neck and over her chest.

He reached behind her, flicking the catch of her bra open, then sliding the straps down and off her shoulders, freeing her breasts. She raised her hands to cover them automatically, but he took her wrists in his hands and turned them over, pressing a kiss to the sensitive skin there, before pulling them away.

It was foreign for him to be gentle, and kind wasn’t something he’d ever been, and yet she seemed to draw it out of him naturally with that look in her eyes, nervousness, yearning, desire, uncertainty. Numbers were his natural habitat—emotions were strange to him, even during sex. Yet something about her made him want to reassure her. ‘You’re beautiful,’ he said, his gaze dropping to her bare breasts, which were, indeed, beautiful. Warm, golden skin. Rosy areolae and hard, deep pink nipples.

She let out another shaky breath. ‘I’m sorry I’m nervous. I just haven’t—’

‘I know.’ He let go of her hands and ran the backs of his fingers over the curve of one breast, watching in fascination as goosebumps rose in its wake. ‘You don’t have to apologise.’

She shivered as he did it again, this time letting his fingers curve around one silky breast, weighing it in his palm. So warm, so soft, and the way she gasped as he brushed his thumb over the nipple. He lifted his gaze to hers again, and the heat in her eyes stole his breath. He couldn’t stop himself from leaning in and taking her mouth as he stroked her breast, teasing the nipple with his thumb. She gasped against his lips, arching into his hand, turning hungry as he kissed her deeper.

It was getting harder and harder to hold himself back, because the eroticism of the moment was so intense. Her response to him, the way she looked at him, the way she wanted him made him feel as if he couldn’t get enough of it. He wanted more, wanted to give her more. ‘Lie back,’ he murmured.

Slowly, her gaze still on his, she did so, trembling a little as he pulled at the buttons of her jeans and tugged down the zip. Then he gripped the waistband and pulled them slowly down her legs, taking her knickers with them. But only once she was naked did he allow himself to look at her, and there was no hiding now. She lay across the soft, dark charcoal faux fur of the bedspread, a ray of summer sunshine lying there, all golden skin and hair and eyes, soft golden curls between her pretty thighs.

‘You are perfect,’ he said as he rose to his feet, letting her see how much he meant it. ‘Absolutely perfect.’

She was breathing very fast, but made no attempt to cover herself. ‘Let me see you,’ she said huskily. ‘Please, Kai.’