Page 71 of The Lightkeeper

Maybe sea stars and broken soldiers had nothing in common. Maybe regenerating a limb wasn’t the same as regenerating a life. But if I managed to reach Kit with how I thought… who I was… then maybe, just maybe, this would help.

“Yes.”

I wasn’t sure, but I had to hope.

It seemed like I blinked and the rest of my errands were done. Too lost in my own thoughts, I’d grabbed almost everything from the B&B rather than waste time trying to sort out what was necessary and what wasn’t. Then, there was a brief stop at the grocery store. Kit might be able to survive on the most basic canned goods, but I didn’t want to. I always cooked for Dad when I was home, so I gathered up the essentials for all my favorite dishes.

It wasn’t until I turned onto the gravel drive to the lighthouse that I realized even after all my thinking, I still hadn’t come up with a plan for telling Kit that Lou was coming over for dinner.

I wasn’t afraid to tell him. Weeks and weeks of observation meant I could perfectly envision his instant wince, the flare of his nostrils, the knot of his jaw muscle. I could picture the pain he’d prepare himself for. The fear and uncertainty that would cloud his gaze. But I could also see his solemn nod of agreement because he’d always put others before himself.

I was afraid of what the conversation would reveal—that this was no longer an experiment. No longer a deniable fling. I was afraid of having to admit wanting something that I’dclassified as impossible for me before: Attraction. Affection.Love.My rationale had been sound; my former experiments with kissing had been failures, so why would I continue down that road of research? It was safer to shut it off. To hypothesize that I wasn’t made for kissing or relationships or sex.Or love.I shuddered. But now…

The lighthouse came into view.

A haven.

A safe harbor.

A place where I’d found a part of me I hadn’t known existed, and I was afraid that part of me only existed because of him.

Chapter Seventeen

Kit

“I can’t,”she gasped and tipped forward, her body trembling above me as my tongue swiped over her clit.

“If you can talk, you can come.” The familiar refrain muffled against her slickness. Somewhere in the last two weeks, that saying had become a favorite of mine. “Now grind on my face.”

She panted and shook her head. “I’ll suffocate you.”

I growled and sucked on her clit hard, the bud so sensitive that her hips bucked against me.

“I’ve almost died before, sea star. Trust me, I’d rather go when some part of me is buried inside you.” I curled my fingers forward, reminding her that my mouth wasn’t the only thing eager to please her.

Her chest caved in, air whooshing from her lips. And then she settled on my face, letting me feast on her hot honey. My hands roamed the flesh of her hips, guiding her onto my mouth. I stared up as her head tipped back, pure pleasure overtaking her every limb. I memorized the sight of her beautiful body moving aboveme. The soft swell of her stomach. The heavy weights of her tits. The sweet taste of her pussy on my tongue. Within a minute, my deep, rough licks tore a strained cry ripped from her lips as she collapsed forward, limp from release.

I groaned in deep satisfaction, knowing this was the most important part I would memorize—the taste of her pleasure as she came apart for me. Always. Without abandon.

Gently, I moved out from under her, letting her tip forward onto the mattress.

“Good?” I rumbled, pressing a kiss to the flesh of her hip.

She moaned deep, making me chuckle.

“Maybe I should start calling you jellyfish,” I teased, moving behind her, my gaze drawn to her full ass perched in the air and her wet center on display.

She made another intelligible noise as I traced her entrance, carefully probing one finger back inside her. Her muscles quivered around me, sore and pushed to their limit. Reverently, I repeated the movement. A slide along her seam. A slow push inside her cunt. And with my other hand, I gripped my shaft, working myself in hard, rough strokes.

“Kit…”

I bit back a groan. I knew that tone. It was fucking carved into my goddamn soul for how many times I’d heard it in the last two weeks—that voice that begged me to take more even after she’d given everything.

And I was too fucking weak to deny it.

I moved my hand to her ass and fed my cock inside the heat of her body, a tremor breaking me with how fucking good it felt. I moved slow—painfully slow because she was so sensitive. Slow, punishing strokes until we both ached for that next thrust. Panted for it. But even going slow, it didn’t take long for the pressure in my spine to build and my balls to tighten.

“More, Kit,” her soft voice whispered.

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