Page 23 of The Pacifist
I scratched my neck. “Sure.”
Mila put her feet down on the floor and straightened up. “Shut up – you didn’t?”
“I did. I told you that my family runs a sex club.”
Narrowing her eyes, Mila drilled for information, “Yes, you told me about the club, but you said that you never had sex.”
“We didn’t have sex. But we made out and she taught me how to kiss.”
“When was this?”
“A long time ago. I was eighteen or nineteen.”
“Did you like it?” Mila’s eyes fell to my lips as if she wondered what it would be like to kiss me. My stomach tingled as if the drone had made a sudden drop. Shifting in my seat, I crossed my legs, hoping to hide that my pants were growing tight in the front. “Ehh, it’s been so long that I can hardly remember it.”
“But could you teach me how to kiss?”
CHAPTER6
How to Kiss
Mila
Jonah gaped before stammering, “What… what did you say?”
“I asked if you could teach me how to kiss. That way I wouldn’t be as nervous on my wedding night.” I held my breath feeling vulnerable for having proposed the idea.
“But…” He frowned. “Aren’t you supposed to be untouched to have a tournament?”
I pulled back in my chair. “I won’t lose my virginity from kissing.”
“No, I know that. I’m just confused because I assumed…” Jonah’s Adam’s apple was bobbing in his throat and he didn’t seem to know where to place his hands. “I just meant that maybe you wanted your husband to be the first to kiss you, or… I don’t know, it’s all irrational to me.”
It was irrational to me too. The way I longed for the one man who showed no interest in me sexually. I was so used to men sending long glances at me in the Northlands and I knew thousands were hoping to win my hand in marriage. So why was Jonah all I could think about?
“This isn’t back in the twenties when women were married off at fifteen,” I defended myself. “You said it yourself. I’m a grown woman and I’m in charge.” My hands were shaking a little when I gave Jonah a challenging stare. “If I want to kiss someone, I can, and it’s not like you would tell anyone, would you?”
“No, of course not.”
“Exactly. It would just be between you and me.” I pulled back, taking his initial shock as a rejection. “But if you don’t want to, I understand.”
“No!” His tone was a bit high-pitched. “It’s not that. It’s just…” His eyes traveled between my eyes and lips. “Are you sure it’s what you want?”
I went from defensive to nervous real fast, and tucked my shaking hands under my thighs. “Why not? We’re friends, and I feel safe with you.”
Jonah watched me as if he was waiting for me to break into laughter and tell him I was joking. When I didn’t, his eyes fell to my lips again and he dipped his head a little closer. My heart was in my throat and the masculine scent of him made my nostrils expand to take it all in. This was Jonah Cervici, the most powerful man in the Motherlands and my best friend. I’d wanted him to kiss me for so long and now that he was mere inches away, my eyes shut and I stopped breathing.
No, my brain shouted. I wanted to see the kiss and not miss a thing, but the bombardment of my senses was too much and as soon as his breath warmed my lips, I stopped worrying about seeing. Every particle of my body was in a state of hyper-sensitivity. The sensation of his lips brushing mine had me sucking in air in a small gasp.
Another soft kiss was followed by his fingertips, sliding up my neck. I pursed my lips, silently asking for more, and Jonah complied with long, soft, and tender kisses.
His lips tasted sweet and I got goosebumps from the delicious feeling of him pulling me toward him and kissing me in a more assertive way. The strong tingles that ran through my belly made me smile and giggle low.
“What is it?” Jonah asked into my mouth.
“Nothing.” I couldn’t tell him that I was elated to find that kissing him felt even better than the romance novels had promised. Afraid that I might embarrass myself by pulling him closer and try that French kissing that I’d read about, I kept my hands under my thighs and didn’t dare move.
“Do you like it?”
