Page 63 of Fate

They’d worked hard. And she wouldn’t presume. She’d be thoughtful and kind, and maybe he would not want to be with her after she’d left him.

Again.

His hands skimmed down her waist, settling on her hips.

And he groaned into her mouth as she rested more fully against him, and her pulse flared and there it was, that need that was so much more than physical.

His thumbs were delving, pulling at fabric until they found skin instead, and she shivered. She leaned down, wanting to kiss him again, and it put pressure in the most delightful of ways, and she closed her eyes tightly as she sought his mouth with the rest of her senses.

“Do you mean to have me again, Firen?” Lucian asked, and it was a wretched thing to say. Made her sound like some sort of defiler. A seducer. And she was his proper mate. She had a bond warming in her chest to prove it.

She opened her eyes and wished he could always look at her that way. Full of all the affection he was reticent to give. “If you’ll have me,” she answered back, and punctuated it with a kiss. Maybe two. A third, that lasted a great deal longer because his hand came to the back of her head and kept her there.

She hated he was right. That talking was so hard, that circumstances meant challenge and heartache and far too much uncertainty.

But this...

They certainly knew how to do this part.

And do itwell.

He did not let her linger on top of him as long as he had before. Instead, he rolled her onto her back almost immediately, and his urgency left her breathless. Or maybe it was the kisses.

Or maybe it was the way his hand delved between them, pushing up at her shift and making a long, languid stroke up her thigh. Then down to her knee. Then up again.

Not quite where she wanted it, but drifting closer still with each pass.

Until she was squirming and frustrated, and when she opened her eyes to voice her complaint, he wassmirkingat her.

Which really was insufferable.

And if he could tease her, then surely that was permission to do the same. So she reached down. Huffed out a breath when, of course, he was wearing sleeping trousers, and his sudden need for modesty really was inconvenient for a quick fumbling in the dim of their week-long home.

So she plucked at the drawstring.

And if she had thought he’d need much coaxing, she was quickly proven wrong.

There would be no teasing him into readiness.

So she grasped at him instead, her hand delving into his trousers. And that really was a rather bold thing to do.

But she was gratified with his groan.

And even more still when his hand came to settle where it belonged.

It was almost enough to make her laugh with the strangeness of it. That it did not feel awkward at all to be holding one another in the most intimate of ways. To touch and yes, to tickle—and she really would start laughing if he continued to touch her so lightly.

But thoughts of amusement or oddity fled when his touches grew more insistent. When he allowed more of his weight to cover her as he kissed her mouth, her throat, then down to the tops of her breasts where her neckline allowed.

She supposed they ought to take their clothing off. It had felt so delightful before. To feel all of him, to watch his eyes when he took in all of her nakedness.

But maybe there was something charming about this as well. To abandon her teases so she could grip at his shoulders instead. To feel the tension in him, to know that they could ease that. Together.

And they’d sleep better, afterwards. They’d proven that before.

She liked the way his breath felt on her damp skin. Liked the way his fingers dipped. Just one, then a second. Careful of her, preparing her.

Liked better still the way he cursed beneath his breath because she hadn’t undone the drawstring all the way, so he had to fumble with his trousers and if she giggled just a little, thenthat was all right, because he had his revenge a moment later when he was suddenlythere.