Page 53 of Saved By Starlight
He shakes in my arms, his breath uneven in my ear. His rhythm falters as he tries to hold back. I wish he wouldn’t. I wish he’d just give in to this, to the beauty of us. I tighten my inner muscles, and even though I did it to make him feel good, it sends a burst of pleasure through me at the same time that’s almost shocking in its intensity. Lyro squeezes his eyes shut, the cords in his neck standing out.
“Come for me, pet,” he says tightly, like he’s rationing air. “I want to take good care of you.”
“You are. This is perfect,” I murmur, and sure enough, the next time he sinks into me, stretching me out and bumping against my clit in the same rough movement, I fall apart, pussy gushing and thighs shaking around him as I come harder than I knew was possible.
After that, he doesn’t stop. Doesn’t even pause.Finally, he gives me what I want and takes what he needs. I watch him above me, moving like a vengeful god, every color of the rainbow playing over his perfect body as he uses me exactly how he wants.
Maybe, maybe, this will help him understand that we justfit.Maybe he’ll learn that I have room for his darkness.
He swears under his breath, his whole body going rigid for a brief second before he shudders and jerks, fills me with hot pulses. The sharp, citrus scent of his come permeates the air and my mouth waters, a little sorry that I didn’t get to taste him this time. But there will be another chance.
He collapses, covering me with his body, weight pressing me down into the bed. The soft furs have enough give that he doesn’t completely crush me. The pressure feels good, actually. It feels permanent.
“I’m sorry,” he says, surprising me. Boneless and dreamy, still pulsing and tingling, I feel like the luckiest woman alive to have him between my legs.
“For what?”
He rolls off me to stare silently at the ceiling, leaving my core empty and grasping. A warm slide starts to leak out of me. I tilt my hips, holding my knees so it doesn’t make a mess in the bed while I wait for his answer.
“I don’t know how to love you,” he finally says. “The thing you said about everyone deserving love. It’s not true, obviously.” I start to argue, but he holds up his hand, stopping me. “Some people don’t deserve it. But you do. And I don’t know how to give it to you.”
Oh, he does. My smug pussy could tell him that. “You’re doing fine, trust me.”
“I want to do better. When we’re free of all this, I’ll do better.”
“I know you will.”
He snorts, rolling onto his side and propping on one elbow so he can play with a lock of my hair. “You have so much confidence in the promises of a known liar.”
I grin at him. “I’ve seen you fight. You’re the best.”
“What does that have to do with it?”
“It takes a lot of practice to get that good. A lot of dedication and patience. If you can learn how to do that, you can learn how to love me.”
His jaw muscle flexes. “That’s learning to destroy things. Not...caring for them. It’s different.”
“Is it? Love gives you the power to destroy, just like a weapon. The skill is in choosing not to. It’s a responsibility, but one that brings a lot of pleasure and satisfaction.”
“Like having a pet? This is why you care for the bug.”
I nod. His eyes sink shut in understanding and then reopen, their swirling gray depths pulling me in with an expression I haven’t seen before. Regret.
He touches my cheek with a tentative finger, drawing a line that traces the path of the tears I’ve shed since we met.
“I’ve been sharpening my blades on you.”
“Just a little. I know you didn’t mean it.”
“I meant all of it.” His finger runs over the curve of my jaw and down my neck to the sensitive, broken skin around his bite. He circles it gently, leaning forward to kiss it, before drawing back. “I think I wanted you to suffer because I knew you’d use our bond against me eventually. You said it well: love can be a weapon, sharp and deadly. I was taught this lesson many times at my father’s hands when he rewarded and punished me with his favor. Somehow, I didn’t realize I’ve been using it the same way against you.”
He gets it. Finally. The hurt he’s been causing, both the intentional and unintentional. The scars his words leave, even when he doesn’t mean them. I’m glad he’s figuring it out now before he carved me too deep to repair. “It’s okay. I forgive you.”
He nods. “We’ll leave the past on R’Hiza with the rest of the ghosts. Our life together is a blank scroll, and you will teach me to write on it in a new language.”
“Sounds good to me.” Exhausted by the conversation and sated by the best orgasm of my life, I roll to my side so he can circle me in his arms. He pulls me to his chest and dragonflies the back of my neck, squeezing slightly.
I know what that means now. “You love me,” I tell him, practically singing the words.
