Page 67 of Throwing Fire

I chuckle. “Not intentionally. I took a couple of hits there. That’s all that was left after they patched me up.”

Kez runs her fingertips over the scar, petal-light. “How many times have you been shot?”

“More’n I can remember.” I kept count for the first couple of years in SAWL After Phogath, I stopped counting. It was over thirty by then. More than the number of years I’d been alive. I wasn’t themost superstitious grunt, but I didn’t like that number. So I stopped counting.

“Is that why you’re not afraid of anything?”

“Everyone’s afraid of somethin’, kitten. Dyin’. The dark. Somethin’.”

“What are you afraid of?”

Lately the only thing that really scares me is the thought of losing Kez. “Spiders.”

She tilts her head to the side. “Spiders? Really.”

“Yeah, can’t stand the fuckers. On Phogath they had these little green ones. Use to nest up in your sinuses. I had to have a bunch cut out of my nose. Bastard motherfuckers.”

Kez squeezes her nose between her forefinger and thumb. “Ow.”

“Yeah. You sure you’re going to be okay with a brand?”

“Yes, absolutely.”

I don’t question her further. She knows her own mind, and I can see how this might be good for her. She learned to throw fire to deal with her fear after being burned. This might be more of the same.

“What is it going to be?” she asks.

“I’m thinkin’.” And I am. There are a couple of things that have already sprung to mind. Numbers, shapes, symbols, that have meaning for us. But none stick; none immediately feel right. Then my mind seizes on a shape, and I know it’s the one. “Yeah, I got it. I’ll sketch it out and show it to you in the morning.”

“Show me now.” She holds out her hand, palm up.

I lean up on my elbow. Lace my fingers through hers and sketch with my thumb. Two parallel lines, and a crossbar. The ‘H’ of my initials. Then diagonal lines running from the crossbar to each end of the second upright line. The ‘K’ of her initials, superimposed over the ‘H’.

“Could the arrow point to my heart?” she asks. The ‘K’ does make a kind of arrow and it wouldn’t be any problem to position it so the arrow points to her heart. I’m not picky about which shoulder it goes on.

“Sure.” I’m already looking forward to it. Sketching the design and cutting the metal. Testing it on some soft hide so I can gauge the heat and how long to it hold it to get the mark I want. And then, most exciting of all, doing it. It’ll have to be part of our sex play. There’s no way I’m branding Kez without fucking her.

Speaking of which. “How’re you feeling now, kitten?”

“Good. Fine.”

I walk my fingers down to her hip. Begin gathering the soft material of her nightgown. “Not too tired?”

“No ... Hale?” Her grin lights up her voice. “Will you fuck me now?”

“No,” I say. “But I will make love to you.”

CHAPTER 25

Ipull off her nightgown while we’re kissing.

Sometimes, if we’re in a hurry, or in public, I leave her clothes on. But I prefer skin-on-skin. Kez’s skin is a sensory garden: warm pearl shades and subtle textures. I explore each one. The delicate curve of her jaw. The plush bow of her lips. The rose flush of her chest. The soft pebbling of her aureola. The ombre valley down her midline to the tiny sinkhole of her navel. I linger over the change in grain of her skin as I reach her pelvic vee. Kez takes a suppressor rather than shaving, which I’ve started doing, too. Means she’s bare there, and that the skin is smooth and softer than a baby’s bottom. I swirl my fingers around and around that soft, fine skin while she mews and pushes her hips up to me.

“Roll over for me, kitten.” I’ve decided how I want her, as I’ve caressed her into readiness. Just ‘cause we’re making love, don’t mean we can’t play.

When she shifts onto her side, I slide in behind her, nice and close. Rub my chin against the soft shag of her hair. “I know you miss your dreads,” I tell her. “But I love your hair like this.” I never have to worry about catching her or having to sweep her hair out from underus. She has a long, elegant neck, which the black shag highlights. I stroke and kiss that vulnerable curve as I position myself. Kez has already spread her legs and lifted one knee. Probably trying to tempt me with that ass. But that’s not how I want her. Not tonight. I reach down and cup her thigh, pull her leg back over mine. Rub my glans up and down her cleft until I find the place I most want to be and push myself into her. Fuck, that’s sweet. She gasps and throws her head back against my collar. I slide my arm under her and pull her close. Her body’s so fine and soft against mine.

“Kitten,” I whisper to her, bending my head until I can mouth the sensitive join of neck and shoulder. We’re tangled tight now. Hot skin to hot skin. Sweating and sticking. I love this primal element of sex. “My kitten.”

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