Page 112 of Between Fear and Favor

Taught to suppress the desires of my body, my ribs had been a cage. Now, though, the lock of the Myriad had fallen away, and my tender heart took flight.

“Show me,” I breathed. “Show me what else you would have done.”

His jaw flexed, eyes darkening, and then he moved. Pulling his tall frame through the water to where I sat, water dripped down every swell of lean muscle, and I suddenly understood why one might want to lick every drop. He tugged his hands through his shoulder-length hair, fingertips moving with ease through the silky strands, and I was grateful he’d created this version of him in the vision. The one I’d altered. Tracing my eyes down his form, I saw an errant drop roll downward, following the furrow of muscle on his hip, and I was transfixed. The water of the bath lapped at his skin, and I found myself wishing it wasn’t quite so deep.

“Do you need me to tell you what I’m doing?” he asked, each word clipped as if he were struggling to speak.

“I trust you,” I said, and I barely saw his nod before he surged forward. He gripped me around the waist, placing me on the edge of the bath. This time, I felt every touch, even while my true body stayed still. “How are you doing that? How can I feel you?”

“I’m using more of my divinity. I probably won’t be able to do it for long, but I can’t resist.”

He crowded me, placing his hands on my thighs and spreading my legs wide as he stepped between them. My hands flew to his biceps, and I marveled over just how hard they felt. When he put his hands on my hips and pulled me closer, I gasped. I was uncomfortably aware of my nudity, but all thoughts left me as he dipped his head and kissed me. Both hands on either side of my jaw, he bent me to his will. Consuming and constant, Dewalt’s kiss was overpowering. His tongue swept inside my mouth, and I moaned. His touch was gentle but firm, and I lamented all the time we wasted when we could have been doing this all along. As he pulled away, I panted, looking up at him with hazy eyes.

“First, I would’ve kissed you silent, you fiery little thing,” he said, dragging his lips down to my neck. “I would have kissed that righteous indignation right out of you.”

“And then what?”

“I would’ve made sure you were desperate before I touched you anywhere else. But I think I’ve already done that,” he said, and I squeezed my legs around him in confirmation. He took a step back and bent, cupping my breast in one hand as he tugged the tight peak into his mouth. I tilted my head back, planting my hands on the ground on either side of me. I bit my lip, trying not to cry out.

“This might feel funny,” he said, peppering kisses on my breast, and then the true Dewalt grabbed my hand where it had been resting on my stomach. He was right; the sensation felt overwhelming. My body and mind were split in two, and having control of both was difficult to understand. “Let me see your technique,” he said, placing my hand on my hot center. “Touch yourself for me, songbird.”

The vision of him continued to press his mouth to my body. My breasts, my chest, my collarbone—part of me refused to move, relishing in the feeling, but the other part of me needed more. I was so warm between my legs, and as I traced my fingertips over the soft skin there, I could hear my wetness. “That’s…loud,” I said, suddenly embarrassed.

“That only means we’ve done it right, Nor. You’re supposed to be this wet.”

“Oh,” I whispered, but the heat didn’t leave my cheeks. “Right.”

“Every body is different, but nothing about how they respond is wrong. There’s no reason to be ashamed of anything. Especially with me.” I felt the press of his lips against my temple, even as the vision of him continued kissing my neck. When I didn’t move, he stopped, looking up at me. “You can stop, Nor. If you want to.”

“No!” I grabbed at him in a panic, unsure of which version of my body was moving. “I don’t want to stop. I just—I just need some help, I think.”

Tugging me closer to the edge of the bath, Dewalt took a step back, his gaze assessing and appreciative. I fought the instinct to close my legs, to hide myself, and bit my lip in celebration when I won the battle. As the Dewalt in the baths stepped forward, hand moving down to that spot, I jumped as he grasped my actual hand at the same time.

“Take your time,” he said, and the way he moved my hand matched what the other version of him did, and we began to stroke the delicate skin there. Soft-touched, as if I were fragile, our fingertips dragged on either side of my opening, and my hips jerked in response. “You’ve touched yourself here, right?”

“Yes,” I panted.

“And here?” he asked, moving toward the tiny swollen bud that was entirely too sensitive to the touch. He used my finger to rub a gentle circle around it, varying the pressure at each pass. I couldn’t use my voice, only nodding and whimpering as my legs shook.

“And you didn’t make yourself come doing this?” he asked, brows pulling down into a frown.

“I don’t think so?” My voice was husky, as if it came from deep within my stomach, tense and heavy.

“You’d know,” he said before leaning forward to kiss me. Warm, his mouth moved over my lips, and it took me a moment to realize the pressure was stronger because both versions of him kissed me. Slanting his mouth over mine, he moved with purpose. I wondered briefly who taught him to kiss this way. As if he needed it to breathe, as if he’d drown without it.

“Did you put your fingers inside yourself? Did you think of me when you did it?”

“Yes,” I gasped, a high-pitched cry dragging out the word as he manipulated my hand, pressing my finger inside me. And then the vision of him did the same thing.

“Gods, you’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen. Do you know that, Nor? You drive me fucking crazy,” he said, sliding a second finger beside the first. Despite my wanton display, I blushed. Dewalt, the most handsome man I’d ever seen, found me beautiful, and that shouldn’t have had as much of an effect on me as it did. I couldn’t help it as I swiveled my hips into the motion. “I should have gone slower that day in the palace,” he said. “I should have savored every moment of this.”

“Dewalt,” I sighed reverently. “This feels too good.You’retoo good,” I panted. There were so many things I wanted to say back to him, but my mind was a jumbled mess. I wasn’t sure I could properly tell him how I felt. A muscle in my leg tightened and released, twitching as he stroked a spot within me. I mimicked the motion with my own hand as Dewalt’s thumb moved gentle circles over my knuckles. The vision of him did the same movement over that swollen spot.

His large hand gripped my thigh, opening my legs wider as I increased my pace. I wished he would climb over me, bring his hard body down atop mine. I wanted more than my fingers, and I wanted more from him. Dewalt was safe, Dewalt was gentle, Dewalt was caring. He was good, and despite my fears, despite my hesitations, Ideservedgood. Having him like this wasn’t enough. I worried that having his body, having his heart, having his smiles, wouldn’t be enough.

Could I have it all? Would the gods allow me to keep him?

His hand moved over the inside of my thigh, gently petting as I continued pressing my fingers inside me. The vision had faded, and I wondered if it was because of my desperation for this to be real between us. Or was it because of my fear of losing him? My body tensed and relaxed; waves of pleasure that seemed as if they were about to crest never did. I was running toward something on an ever-disappearing horizon. My hand suddenly cramped, and I frowned.

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