Page 109 of Between Fear and Favor

Gods, she made me soft. I didn’t think I’d ever held anyone’s hand before—aside from my mother’s when I was a boy.

“I did my best to alleviate one of those pains,” I said.

“It would be you who could alleviate them both.”

“How so?”

“I didn’t die when you touched me before. The gods didn’t come down from the heavens to smite me.”

“No, they did not.”

“Nothing bad happened to me because I gave in to pleasure. I-I know, logically, it is not bad. I am not a novice anymore. I have to…I have to believe my existence isn’t just to please the gods.”

“Of course you don’t?—”

“Skies above, they hurt you instead! You were stabbed!” she gasped, and her hand released mine to flutter up to her chest. I shushed her, pulling her tighter against me. The ginger scent of her salve filled my nostrils, and the silky soft glide of her skin against mine was a balm to my fucking soul.

“There’s plenty of reasons to smite me, songbird. I trust bringing pleasure to a beautiful woman who desperately deserved it wasn’t the reason. It’s more likely Ciarden didn’t appreciate that I left you wet and wanting.”

“Dewalt,” she breathed, turning in my arms. Substantially warmer hands caressed my chest, her fingertip tracing the line of my scar. Head tilted back, her eyes met mine, wide and bright. Gods, I needed to kiss her. “Thank you.”

“For what?”

“For your safety.”

I exhaled a breath, something strikingly close to disappointment weighing heavily in my gut. I was the first man who’d made her feel safe enough to question the ideals she’d grown up with. She’d let me kiss her, let me hold her until she fell asleep, warm breath moist against my chest, but I realized in that moment I was not special. It was almost a relief, in a way. If she wanted to find safety in my arms, learn to trust and figure out what this world could offer her, I could be that for her. With everything this woman had been through—her hesitations and fears, the Myriad’s influence—it had been irrational hopefulness to think she might want more.

Knowing she wasn’t attached would keep me distant. Knowing there would be an end once she found what she wanted could serve us both. I could have a taste of what Lucia had hinted at without forcing a choice upon Nor and without letting a dead woman have more control over my life than she already did.

It wasn’t my worst idea.

Her hand drifted up, caressing my jaw. “When you pulled me out of the snow,” she said, voice strong and clear. “The night you followed me back from the king’s estate.”

“What?”

“That was the moment I knew I wanted you,” she said, and the hand which had been pressed to my chest moved, her fingertip drawing circles into my flesh. Searing, her touch was a confession. And as she moved lower, tracing the divot in my abdomen, I flexed involuntarily. “You’re always rescuing me from the cold,” she said, inhaling a sharp breath. “Now, keep me warm.”

Her hand lifted, gripping the back of my neck as she pulled me closer. Leaning over her, I planted my hand near her shoulder, slowing my descent. She let out a soft grunt, tugging harder.

“Nor,” I groaned. “I’m not…you’re not…” I couldn’t find the words, suddenly uncertain of my own ability to maintain distance. I’d been with enough people the last fifteen years without allowing any affection into it—sometimes despite my best efforts. Why did I doubt that ability now?

Because it’s her, I reminded myself. Nor had always been different—an exception to every rule. Crossing this line with her was a risk regardless of how it would end. Either way, I was setting myself up for another broken heart. But when she cleared her throat, her tempting words made me lose all sense.

“Since you—ahem—since you touched me at the palace, I have tried and failed to recreate the same sensations. I require your instruction.”

My jaw dropped, surprised to hear such words from her.

“Divine fucking…You want me to teach you? To touch yourself?”

“Was I unclear?” She bit into the soft pillow of her lower lip, looking up at me through her lashes. Damp hair fanned out over my arm, and I fought every urge to fist it in my hand.

This could work. She wanted someone to instruct her, and it needed to be a person she trusted. And, even if I’d left her panting and dissatisfied before, she knew I was capable. But there needed to be something to stop me—one final line of defense.

“I can’t touch you, Nor.”

“I—what?” She blinked, tears filling her eyes as she tried to pull her body away from mine. “Skies,” she murmured before I dropped my hand to cup her face.

“I can’t touch you—not right now. But I canshowyou.”

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