Page 118 of Heart of Dawn
I slid my hands up his sides, taking hold of his face. My God, I carried guilt like it was ten sacks of potatoes. Guilt and trauma and an anvil of sorrow. Just like everyone else.
“Sorry I was out of it when you went into that lab,” I said. “I’m a useless?—”
He swallowed my self-flagellation with a kiss. I drifted into the pleasure of it, swimming in cherries and the wonder of his lips on mine. What a lucky guy to land a mate like this.
Thump, thump.
Thump, thump.
That didn’t shift my guilt, though. It’d set up shop, here to stay for a while.
Ori pulled back, tracing his thumbs across my stubble. “Talk to me.”
His emerald eyes were hypnotic, my cock twinging in happy response. “About what?”
I want to fuck you so badly…Maybe not now, though. My horniness might be strong, but so was my fatigue and the aftershocks of what’d gone down.
Until we saw a full day without the pink smoke of Dawn and the biters, I might start to relax.
I licked him from my lips, going in for another peck. “Shall we change? I’m sick of dripping.”
He nodded, pulling off his jumper.
I feasted my eyes on his slender upper body. Practically salivated over his erect nipples, hungry to kiss every inch of skin, to make him moan as I tweaked those swollen nubs.
Another day.
We’d also found some towels, bars of soap, toothbrushes, and some toothpaste in our searching. I let him use the bathroom to freshen up first. He went off with a bucket of rainwater, and I returned to the living room to walk off my boner.
He returned fifteen minutes later, his sweat stink replaced by a soapy one laced with cherries. He dried his scarlet hair, beaming at me.
My man wore a white jumper and red jogging bottoms, very much my cherries and cream.
“The power of a good scrub,” he said. “You can’t beat it.”
I chuckled, getting down to business myself.
Bang on the money there, Ori…I felt so much better having washed the drama and dirt off my skin, standing in the bathtub. I watched the dirty water vanish down the plughole, taking in these moments of silence. Not to think, but to reflect.
To just be.
I’m alive.
I’m here with Orion and my pack and I’m alive.
I couldn’t quite believe it.
Ten minutes later, after shaking out the duvet on the balcony, I curled up with Ori under it on the bed. I was the big spoon, holding him so tightly in case the forces of evil tried snatching him away again.
He yawned, wriggling against me. “Dry and warm.”
“Delicious. Like you.” I pressed my nose into his hair, sniffing deeply.
He giggled. “Right back at you, Mr. Robot.”
I wanted to make love to him in a bed. Properly. But not this one. At least for now.
The storm played out, now soothing rather than dramatic.
