Page 35 of The Withering Dawn
His eyes wandered for a moment. “DoIknow what you are asking? How is it a woman like you understands this desire after the way you were raised?”
“I read a book, once,” I shrugged. “One I wasn’t supposed to have. There was romance and love and—”
“Love?” he raised a brow. “That is much different than—”
“I know,” I cut him off, not wanting to sound naïve, despite how naïve I probably was. “But I still want this.”
I sat up on my elbow, leaning over him and fixing my mouth on his. I was surprised by my own forwardness, but Nazario’s words were repeating over and over in my head.We are always dying tomorrow.He’d teased my curiosity and perhaps I was being foolish. Weak. Maybe I was confused, but I did not care about any of the maybes.
When Nazario opened his mouth for me, I kissed him deeper, dipping my tongue into his mouth the way he had done to me. He moaned softly, his hand hooking the back of my neck before he rolled me onto my back, leaning over me. Only moments ago, I would have been content if that kiss was all I ever got from him.
But now I wanted more.
And by the way he slowly ground himself against my hip, he wanted more, too.
I considered that I truly was just a monster unknowingly luring Nazario in, but a selfish part of me that had never existed before didn’tcare. I craved him. I craved his touch and his heat and the sound of his voice and his scent.
I was lost in our kiss until Nazario’s hand ventured away from my neck and gradually started to move to my chest. I had never really developed the same swollen breasts that other women had, but he explored me anyways, his palm cupping my humble mound. I whimpered softly, lifting my hips toward him in hopes that he wouldn’t stop.
“You should not be asking this of me,” he whispered against my lips. “You do not know me at all.”
“I know you will not hurt me.”
“How can you know that?”
“I feel it.”
He drew back his head, peering deep into my eyes as if searching for a lie. When he didn’t seem to find one, his expression softened.
“You will tell me to stop the moment you do not like something.”
I nodded, my mind briefly bouncing back to the moment Philip thrust himself upon me. He did not get past my clothes, as sparse as they were, but his intent had been enough to cloud my otherwise numb thoughts. But the way Nazario touched me—the manner that he spoke to me—felt worlds apart from that incident. They were different.
“I am not as fragile as I seem,” I assured. “I want to be touched like you would touch any woman.”
“You are not any woman.”
“I… I’m sorry. I know what I am. I just meant—”
“I mean you are notanywoman. And you do not want me to touch you like I touch any woman. Trust me.”
His eyes strayed from my face to my dress as his fingers nimbly began to loosen the laces that kept it so haphazardly secured to my slim frame. Pushing the fabric away, he dipped his head toward my chest and kissed me just above the sensitive bead of my nipple.
“Tell me what you wish to feel, muñequita., and I will make sure you feel it.”
You’ll feel it. You’re going to take my cock so deep in your throat that you’ll choke, you siren witch.
My eyes opened and whatever pleasant anticipation I was feeling fled my body. Nazario kept kissing my bare skin, his hand traveling down my hip to my thigh, but all the warmth and eagerness fled my body. I slowly sat up on my hands, forcing him to move aside.
“What is wrong?”
“Nothing,” I said.
Different. They were different. I’d only just told myself how different Philip and Nazario were and yet his foul voice was in my ear like a hungry parasite, making my body feel slimy and unwell.
But I still wanted Nazario.
I could feel him staring at me, but I dared not look at him for fear of letting him see something ugly in me. Something sickening and undesirable. Eventually, he laid back down, expelling his breath loudly.
