Page 33 of In Your Eyes
“Why not?”
“For the same reason I’m not wearing clothes, you’re in your underpants, and we’re both enjoying it.” He raised himself on his elbow and cupped my cheek. “For the same reason you let me in your bed.” He slowly lowered his face toward mine. “For the same reason you’re letting me touch you right now.”
My heart was racing, my breath was coming out in fast pants, and despite my exhaustion, my dick hardened.
“I’m touching you, Samuel.” He ghosted his lips over my forehead and rubbed his palm across my neck and chest. It was highly intimate, the kind of contact I never would have imagined, let alone allowed. But I didn’t want to stop him.
“I don’t understand what’s happening,” I confessed.
“Yes, you do. Stop thinking. Just feel.”
Before I could deny his assertion or ask what he meant or explain that using my brain was important, he closed the gap between us and pressed his lips against mine.
The feelings were already there—locked away, hidden, but there. His kiss led them out from the darkness where they were buried and showed them the light of day. He felt so good, so right, touching my face, smoothing his soft lips over mine, teasing my tongue into his mouth and letting me taste him. Before I knew it, I was reaching for him, tangling my fingers in the sides of his hair, and holding on to him, keeping him close, keeping us connected.
Without separating our mouths, he rolled on top of me and wedged himself between my thighs. I whimpered and felt him smile in response. All the while, he kept kissing my lips and petting my face. It was amazing—the warm caress of his skin, his scent surrounding me, the sound of him breathing. For the first time in my life, I was where I was meant to be, who I was meant to be. I was whole.
Gasping, I jerked back and stared at Korban. It wasn’t supposed to be possible. It shouldn’t have made any sense. And yet, suddenly, everything made sense and anything seemed possible.
“You’re my mate,” I rasped. “My true mate.”
“Yes.” He beamed, the sides of his eyes crinkling. He moved his fingertips over my eyebrows, my cheekbones, my nose, my lips, and my jaw while he gazed at me reverently. “And I am so very lucky.”
He kissed me again, lightly this time, just a brush of his lips over mine, and then he slid off me, curled his arms around me protectively, and said, “Sleep now. I have you. We’ll talk more in the morning.”
IKNEWhe was there before I opened my eyes. His strong arms were around me, I was using his shoulder as a pillow, and I had my leg over his hip. I had never rested more soundly and peacefully than I did that night.
“Good morning,” I croaked, my voice weak from lack of use.
“I think at this point, we can call it evening.”
“Evening?” I rubbed my hands over my eyes. “Really?”
I wanted to look at him, but I was too nervous, so I picked at the sheet instead.
“It’s four o’clock,” he said. “I’d say that counts as early evening.” He brushed my hair back, kissed my forehead, and then tilted my chin up until our eyes met. “You really needed sleep. How do you feel?”
I blinked until I could focus on his face. It was so close and I wanted to kiss him, but I wasn’t sure if I was allowed to.
“You’re my mate,” he said. “Of course you’re allowed to kiss me.”
I hadn’t meant to say that out loud.
“Would it make you feel better if I kissed you instead?”
My brain was short-circuiting from the knowledge that I was in bed with someone. That the someone was a male was particularly odd, but truly, it wasn’t the biggest reason for my anxiety. I had never kissed anyone before the previous night, and the few touches I had endured were either affection given by my parents or attempts at seduction given by females; none of those involved my bare skin and none had lasted more than a few seconds. So everything about my current position—lying in bed tangled with a man, having nothing more than one pair of underwear between us, feeling him caress me and wanting to push into the touch instead of run away from it—was completely outside the scope of my life experiences. And yet Korban seemed perfectly comfortable, completely at ease.
Narrowing my eyes at him, I sat up. “Why are you so casual about this?”
He tilted his head to the side and furrowed his brow in confusion. “I’m not sure what you mean.”
“This. Us.” I pointed back and forth between us. “We slept together. All night. We were in bed. Touching and holding. Last night we kissed. You’re naked right now.” I pointed to the sheet covering his groin. “Under there, you’re naked and I was just under there, so your, uh,you knowwas pressed against me.”
“I still don’t…. What?”
“How is it you’re calm and collected about all this?” I squeaked. “Are you used to it? Is that it? Are you used to taking off your clothes and climbing in bed with people?”
His frown smoothed into a grin. “Oh, I see.” He covered my tightly closed fists with his hands. “You’re jealous.”
