Kyro - A.G. Wilde Page 0,62

making her want to put her legs up and roll her eyes back as his mouth melted into hers. As Kyro moved, pressing her down into the bedding, she realized she had lifted her legs, wrapping them around his torso and pulling him in farther.

As her eyes closed and she surrendered to her emotions, she could only feel. One of his hands caressed her cheek so gently even though his lips were so insistent, telling her that even though she was pinned beneath him, this was him practicing self-control and the thought thrilled her. A moan tumbled from her middle as his other hand slipped down her sides, to land at the juncture of her hips and her buttocks. He gripped her there, holding her firmly against him as his tongue delved into her mouth.

When she met his tongue with hers, his deep rumble vibrated against her and she felt him twitch in his trousers. That twitch made her moan again like a wanton woman. The promise of that twitch...fuck, it was making her wet.

She wanted this more than she’d even realized she did.

She wanted him to fuck her, give it to her deep, make her scream, make her feel again.

She wanted to come while she was screaming his name into the sheets, her ass in the air as he hammered into her from behind.

“Kyro,” she begged.

Her heart was beating so wildly she could hardly breathe. It was only she and him. Nothing else mattered at this moment.

Nothing.

No Tasqals. No past pain.

Kyro’s breath came hard and fast as he lifted his lips from hers.

“Evren, I can’t—”

Fear gripped her at those words, the world pausing and standing still for a moment as she waited for him to continue.

This was it.

He was going to tell her they couldn’t do this. That she was wrong to push him. That she was making things harder for them.

“I can’t stop.” Kyro gulped. “I can’t—”

“I don’t want you to stop.” Pressing a hand against his cheek, she looked deep into his eyes. “I don’t want you to stop,” she repeated.

His throat moved in a gulp. “Evren...”

“I want you, Kyro.” A small laugh bubbled within her. “I think I need you...and I think you need me too.”

There was still hesitation on his part as he eased up farther off her, a deep hurt reflected in his eyes. Her own heart clenched as she watched him move.

“It does not feel right sharing this experience with you like this.” He motioned to himself. He was looking down at himself now, his eyes reflecting he was in deep thought.

It took a few seconds for her to get his meaning.

“Can you shift into the real you? The way you really look?” The thought made a tingle of excitement and anticipation run through her veins and she was pretty sure there were goosebumps all along her arms. His hesitation, however, made a ball of worry begin to form in her belly.

“Kyro?”

“You would still want to spend these last few moments with me if I don’t look like this?”

She didn’t understand what he was saying. Of course, she would still want to.

“This is the Kyro you know. You do not know Kh’Ziami Ch’Mora Ch’Anan.”

“What do you mean? Is that...is that your real name?”

His slight nod had her eyes growing larger.

“Say it again for me,” she whispered.

“Kh’Ziami,” he said. “Ch’Mora Ch’Anan.”

There were guttural sounds she wasn’t sure she could replicate but his name sounded...beautiful.

“Show me...” she whispered. “Show me who you really are...”

Kyro stiffened above her as his eyes searched hers.

He was hesitant.

Of course, he was.

What she had asked of him was something he had done for no one before.

She wanted to see him, wanted to see who he really was but most of all, in this brief moment that they would have together, she wanted him to feel loved and celebrated for his true self, not what he pretended to be.

He didn’t say a word, but he kept looking at her, his hesitation speaking volumes.

“Don’t be afraid,” she whispered. “You won’t scare me.”

“You seem so sure.”

“I am.”

Kyro tilted his head slightly, his gaze still searching hers. “You have no idea what my real appearance is. It could be...anything.”

She hadn’t thought about that. What if he looked like nightmare fuel? What if he had tentacles? Scales like a pangolin? Slimy like a slug?

He must have noticed her hesitation because he asked, “Are you scared?”

“No,” she steeled herself. “We must do this. For us.”

Searching her eyes some more, he bowed his head. “Very well.”

His head