Page 72 of Blood Ties
After a moment’s hesitation, he pulls his shirt up and over his head, baring his scars to me. I kiss my way down his chest, his scarred stomach, and reach for his zipper.
“I want to be your first,” I say. No matter the risk, it will be worth it to take that final step and truly tie him to me.
But he shakes his head, looking at the shackle on my wrist. “Not tonight,” he says. “Not like this.”
It’s not exactly a promise, but hope warms my chest.
“Okay,” I whisper. “But I still want you naked.”
He lets me undress him, piece by piece, and then returns the favor. He worships every part of my body that he reveals. His mouth against my collarbone, his palms on my breasts, breath ghosting over my stomach as he lowers himself between my thighs. He glances up at me, his dark eyes heavily lidded, and at my encouraging nod he lowers his face between my legs.
I gasp at the slide of his tongue against my core. He moans at the first taste of me, and I tangle my fingers in his hair, shivering with pleasure as he licks me again and again. He’s thorough but slow, taking his time with me until I’m squirming and panting.
“You should...ah.” I whimper as he sucks my clit, my hips lifting off the mattress.
He looks up at me, licking his lips. “I should...?”
I flush, biting my lip. “Just keep going. Please.”
It turns out he doesn’t need instruction after all. He already knows my body and how to read the signs of my pleasure. He notices every gasp, every whimper, every arch, and coaxes more out of me with tongue and lips and teeth until he has me writhing. I come hard with my legs squeezing his head, and then again as he grips my hips and lifts me up like he can’t get enough of me. He seems like he wants to be between my thighs forever, but I push him onto his back and insist on going down on him with the same enthusiasm.
Soon we’re both laid out, panting and spent, sticky with tears and each other. Pleasure and pain all tangled up between us. Kai holds me so close against him it’s like he’s trying to crawl inside my skin, and I can’t keep my hands off of him. Stroking his face, running my fingers through his hair, needy for reassurance that he’s still here, still mine, after I almost lost him.
“Was that a first, too?” I ask. “You were really good at it.”
He huffs a laugh, nuzzles closer against me. “You’re my first everything, Riley.”
“Everything?” I pull back to look at him again. “So, that night we played spin the bottle... Was I your first kiss?”
He turns red. Fuck, he’s cute when he gets shy. “Yeah,” he says. “Mostly.”
I lift my eyebrows. “Mostly?”
“Technically my cousin kissed me once,” he says. “When we were kids, I mean. It wasn’t... weird.” A pause. “I guess it’s still weird. She’s... definitely weird. But it wasn’t— I mean— I didn’t know—”
I laugh despite myself. “It’s okay, Kai. It’s notthatweird.” Though when I think of the possibility that there’s more of this horrible family out there somewhere, my amusement quickly dries up. “But you’re a good-looking guy. You were never seeing anyone?”
He props his head up with his elbow. “From where?”
“I don’t know. Town?”
“I don’t go into town,” he says. “I don’t leave the house.” He looks away. “And when Knox has people over, I usually don’t leave my room.”
That’s right. I had almost forgotten that I had to coax him to spend time with us, that first night. It all feels so far away now.
But... that’s another dangerous line of conversation to follow. I don’t want to think about the people Knox brings home, or what happens to them. Definitely don’t want him thinking of those girls again. “So your cousin was the only girl you’ve ever met before me?”And May. A memory of her quick smile bubbles up, but I push it back down, chest aching as I realize how long it’s been since I thought of her.
“I... guess? Aside from, like, brief encounters with Knox’s...” He pauses, eyes darting away guiltily. “Plus, I mean, my Momma.”
I sit up, curious. That’s right — he mentioned his mom once before, but I was too distracted to pursue the line of conversation. I guess I knew she had to have existed at one point, but it’s hard to wrap my head around the idea. Was she a part of the family and their fucked-up ways? There’s no polite way to ask, but I don’t want to let this moment die when he’s being vulnerable with me. “Do you want to talk about her?”
“Oh... uh...” His expression flickers. He clears his throat. “Yeah, I dunno. Uh, no one in my family ever wants to talk about her, really. She, um... introduced me to music. She would sing and dance when I was a kid. And she loves the animals, too. She was the one who gave names to the chickens, because she said they deserved them. She taught me how to cook, and...” He trails off.
There’s a soft look on his face when he talks about his mom, and it makes me smile. “She sounds like a lovely woman.”
“She is.”
I blink. From the way he spoke, I thought she was long dead. “Is she...? Where is she?”
