from banging her head, and pinning her in place. No matter how forcefully she squirmed, she couldn’t manage to free herself. The sadness had left her, at least.
But desire had taken its place.
She smelled of the jasmine and the mint, and he needed more of both, but one second passed, two, and he stopped breathing. This was too important to mess up. So far he’d kept his touches mostly business, never slipping his fingers past clothing and onto bare skin. Now, the restraint caught up to him, his own desire rampaging through him. He could feel her, every inch of her. Could feel every curve he’d previously denied himself.
“I want to kiss you,” he said.
“Yes. Please.”
“I won’t do anything else.”
“Okay.”
“Afraid?” he asked.
“No,” she whispered.
He looked at her lips. So pink and pretty, with only the barest hint of a wound.
Was she ready?
He prayed she was ready.
He couldn’t stop himself.
He leaned down, pressed the softest of kisses onto her mouth. Her nails dug into his chest, and he wasn’t sure whether she meant to push him away or drag him closer.
Well, well. He could stop himself. He lifted his head to peer into her eyes. Wonder stared up at him, more intent than ever before and as thrilling as it was tantalizing. She definitely hadn’t meant to push him away. So he did it again. He kissed her, lingering this time, and a needy little moan left her.
“Open,” he commanded.
The moment she obeyed, he slid his tongue into her mouth. And oh, her taste was exquisite, just as he remembered, like summer berries dipped in fresh cream. Last time, he’d become instantly addicted. This time, he was forever changed. He could not exist without this—without her. She was the only light in a vast expanse of darkness.
Her body heat enveloped him. Her fingers tangled in his hair, and she tilted his head to the side, forcing deeper contact. As if she needed to force him. He took and he gave. He drank her in, greedy, ravenous, using what remained of his willpower to keep his hands on the ground beside her shoulders.
She began to meet his tongue thrust for thrust, asserting more pressure. Her panting breaths mingled with his, and he liked that almost as much as the kiss. He was taking of her, and she was taking of him, and they were becoming one, even in so small a way.
He wanted to touch her.
He had to touch her, all of her, soon, soon, soon, and he would. There would be no part of her he ignored.
But even that wouldn’t be enough. That would never be enough—nothing would. If he touched her, he would take her. And he couldn’t allow himself to take her on a bloodstained floor. Not today, and not tomorrow. Not for their first time. Not with Jecis’s trailer beside his cage. Not until she was ready, until regret would no longer be an issue.
And if he didn’t stop now, he never would.
Solo rolled back, sitting several inches out of reach. Surely the most difficult thing he’d ever done. Vika sat up, her fingers going straight to her mouth. Did her lips throb as deliciously as his?
“No more for today,” he said, more gruffly than he’d intended.
Her fingers lowered, and the pink tip of her tongue emerged, as if she wanted to capture more of his taste. “I like doing that with you.”
Killing him. He stood, strode to the supplies. “Drink this,” he said, and tossed her a bottle of water. “You need to stay hydrated.”
She missed by miles, and had to lean over to fetch the bottle from where it had rolled.
“How did you know what I was planning to do during training?” he asked to distract himself.
She struggled with the lid as she said, “You ignored me, but I’m supposed to answer you?”
“Yes.”
She laughed, and it was a beautiful though rusty sound, and when she blinked in amazement he knew she had not had cause to laugh in a very long time. “Very well, then. I will reward your honesty.” She drank half the bottle, and motioned for him to take the rest. “The knowing you told me about. When I got quiet inside my head, I could sense the changes in your body just before you leapt into action.”
“Good.” She needed every advantage she could get. “Use that knowledge, no matter how big your opponent is.”
A reluctant nod greeted his words. “Who taught you those skills?”