Page 163 of Nine-Tenths

"—think, you ass," I correct. "Sarah helped, but I've realized—"

"I didn't ask Sarah to—"

"—I know." I hook my fingers into his belt loops, pulling his pelvis flush against mine, closing the gap.

Slouched against the closed door, the height difference between us is more pronounced, and I raise my chin as Dav lowers his. This is an echo of what it was like when he held medown. But there's no menace here. There is patience. There is respect.

This isn'tthat.

It will never be that again.

We won'tletit.

Dav's gaze flicks to my mouth, but he waits for me. Waits for me to take the first step. Waits for me to be ready. Waits for me to invite him, just like I told him he had to. Just like he alwayshas.

Dav may have just happened to me, but I invited it.

Ilethim happen.

Willing to stand in it with him, I remind myself.

"Let me apologize," he whispers, his breath smelling of campfire.

"You don't—"

"Letme," he says. "Onatah warned you about skin-to-skin contact, but I should have told youwhy. That's my fault."

"When you say it like that, yes, it is," I say, mulishly.

"I don't blame you for how you reacted when you returned."

"Good."

"And I appreciate your boundaries."

He does. Those delicious, freckly forearms are planted on the door on either side of my head. No part of him is touching me that I didn't reach out and grab for myself.

"Thank you."

"I respect you, I want you to know that."

"I do."

"My love. My darling," he says, and after a quick consent check—this okay? Yeah, it's okay—presses his lips to my cheeks and eyelids, the underside of my chin. "My treasure."

I giggle, giddy with joy and relief. I slide my arms around his neck, smear my words against the skin next to his ear: "If you call me 'my precious', I'm gonna kick you."

"My prec—"

"Shut up and kiss me."

Dav slides his hands up to cup my face. Slowly, tortuously, keeping eye contact determinedly, he leans forward and brushes his lips over mine once, twice, an exploratory, questioning touch, eyes open wide and watching, making sure I’m still okay.

Fuck, that's hot.

My head is spinning. I feel like I'm falling. I'm braced for the inevitable shock of hitting the ground, and I don't want it to ever come. When you love a dragon, maybe it never does.

Maybe you just fly.

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