The Girl Who Fell From The Sky - Rebecca Royce Page 0,47

dry. I had to moisten my lips when I leaned over him, putting my weight into my hands. “Where I am from, I wouldn’t be allowed to be with a man like this. I would not be allowed a husband.”

“What?”

“Because of the medical condition, my heart, right?” I feathered my words close over him, letting my breath bathe him. So close. My hands traced the shape of him—strong arms, sculpted back, his spine dipping down at the band of his pajama bottoms. I lifted the waistband, testing the warm skin beneath. “It never occurred to me that there were whole levels of interactions I was missing. Not just the big things, like pride at being chosen by another person or satisfaction in providing safety or security for someone I care about, but also the little, immediate things. Like touch. Like working the knots out of muscles in the dark. Like…”

I put my mouth against his shoulder blade, and there was no mistaking his groan this time.

“Like kissing someone’s skin, just because you want to.”

He flipped me over fast, his body hovering over mine. Even in the darkness, I could see the flash of his eyes as they held my gaze. “Then they are foolish up there in the sky where you’re from, and I’ll be glad that we’re rid of them down here. Women can’t be so different in place to place. You are stunningly beautiful, sharp-mouthed, smart, and intuitive. If they did not value you, then their loss is my gain.”

He kissed me. I never could have imagined what Torrin’s kiss would feel like, how it would consume me from the outside and press into the very cells of my body, until I no longer needed air, I just needed him. I wrapped my arms around his neck and drew him closer.

He sighed against me, kissing me again and again. The markings hadn’t told me what his embrace did—that this was forever. That Torrin was a man who was willing to share but not to give up what was his. Right then and for always, that was going to be me.

He kissed me with all of his attention, all of his restrained aggression, all of his focus consuming me. His lips were full, strong, and beautiful. I smiled at that last thought, and he pulled back to kiss my face. “And I make you smile. I’ll take that as a good thing.”

Torrin had no sooner uttered those words than he rolled us over so that I was on top of him. What did he want? I wasn’t sure why he’d done that. But maybe it had to do with what we’d been doing earlier. Maybe he liked me touching him, letting me be in control for a moment. Even if he’d demonstrated that in half a second and without warning, he could take that back.

I had so little experience with this, and yet I pressed my lips down onto him as though I’d done this a million times. He wrapped his arms around me but let me lead in this exchange. The minutes passed, and soon I couldn’t breathe from the want forming inside of me and didn’t care that I couldn’t. Torrin grew impossibly harder.

With a soft moan, he slipped his hand inside my pajama top, feeling my breast. My nipples immediately pebbled, hardening to the point of pain, and yet it was the most delicious discomfort. I sucked in a breath, stopping what I was doing just to feel that moment.

“I think you like that.”

“I…do.” I liked it a lot, but speaking right then had become difficult. Between our bodies and under the thin slip of pajamas, his hands cradled both of my breasts, squeezing, even as he stroked the nipples. With his thumbs? Probably. Felt like thumbs. But whatever he was doing, the tactile sensation was rough and warm and winding itself through my body, pooling between my legs.

Which was exactly where I wanted his touch most.

“There’s something else wrong with me,” I managed. He needed to know this, but deep in the haze of desire, I hated myself for bringing it up. Why couldn’t I just enjoy the moment, the act?

“There is nothing wrong with you.” He shifted somehow beneath me—maybe sitting up?—and one of his hands slid to my hip, steadying me atop him. “And you’ve nothing to be ashamed of.”

Oh holies, he was right—I was ashamed. That was the word. “I’ve never done this before.”

I just blurted the confession. He stilled, and I

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