though her flushed lips were parted. “Hanniva.”
I growled, stilling inside her.
“I need rest,” she continued, breath huffing out of her, perspiration dotting her brow.
A rough sound made its way from my chest and out my throat.
“Lysi,” I murmured, reaching forward to stroke her cheek. “Of course, seffi. I forgot myself.”
She was human. Unused to the lusts and attentions of a Dakkari male. She would be soon, I knew…but I felt how tight she was around me now. How tight she’d been when I’d first entered her. The last thing I wanted was to hurt her. And if I continued, I just might.
I caught her slight intake of air when I gently pulled from her body and when I looked between her legs, a deep scowl etched its way onto my features.
“You’re bleeding,” I rasped. My eyes flashed up to hers. “I hurt you.”
My heart seemed to triple in speed. I wasn’t sorry about what we’d done—I could never feel regret for what had just happened between us—but I should’ve been more gentle! I should’ve taken more care.
Maeva frowned, peering down between her legs before she seemed to relax, lying back among the furs.
“I’ll heal, Kiran,” she told me simply.
“Were you…” I trailed off, not entirely sure if I had the right to know, or the right to ask. “Were you untried?”
A deep silence settled between us as I waited for her to give me an answer or to tell me to vok off.
“Lysi.”
Did it make me a callous bastard that her answer relieved me?
Because if she’d said nik, hot jealousy would’ve reared its head though I had never been a jealous male before. I would’ve tortured myself endlessly by wondering which males from the saruk had known her, if she still thought of them…if she had loved them.
Because there wasn’t a doubt in my mind that any male that knew her would love her.
With a tight chest, I pushed from the bed, standing. There was a fresh bath in the corner, though the water had cooled. I went to the fire, ignoring my aching, slick cock, and used the metal scoop to lift glowing rocks from the basin. I brought them over to the washing tub, dropping them inside, hearing them sizzle as they met the water.
Soon, steam rose from the surface and I returned to the bed.
Maeva was propped up on her elbow, watching me. She seemed embarrassed for a brief moment when I caught her eyes on my backside before her chin lifted.
Maddening female, I thought, feeling something pull in my chest. Something I was all too familiar with because I’d felt it over half of my life.
“Come,” I murmured, leaning down to scoop her from the furs. “The bath will help the pain.”
“I’m not in pain,” she protested softly, though I knew she was lying for my sake. “And I can walk, you know.”
“Mmm. And I can carry you, you know,” I replied easily.
She bit her lip. There was a strange energy rolling off her, one I couldn’t read.
When I stepped into the washing tub and lowered us both inside, she swallowed but didn’t say anything. She hadn’t expected me to bathe with her, however—that much was clear.
My lips twitched and I positioned her across my lap, shifting my legs. The bath was made for a Dakkari so the water came up to her collarbones, whereas it only came up to the middle of my chest.
A small sigh escaped her, her eyelids fluttering shut for a brief moment. The hot water was relaxing and I sank back against the head of the washing tub.
“I am sorry, seffi,” I said softly, watching her. “I did not mean to hurt you.”
The moment I said the words, I knew they could be taken in a variety of ways. For our past. Our present.
Maeva seemed to realize this too. She was quiet, her eyes flickering back and forth between mine, one of the few beings who dared to meet the gaze of a Vorakkar.
“I know, Kiran.”
I couldn’t keep my hands off her. My palms stroked her arms, running up to her shoulders, brushing over my bite mark on her neck, which that filled me with supreme masculine satisfaction whenever I spied it.
When I reached around her to stroke her back, another small sigh escaped her. Her head lolled forward. She seemed to at least enjoy my touch, though prior, she’d always been very hesitant to touch me.
When my fingers brushed the long scar over the back of her shoulder, I traced