Page 64 of The Thief
"Christ, you're beautiful."
The reverence in his voice makes my chest tight. When was the last time someone looked at me like I was worth wanting? Worth fighting for?
He lifts me onto the bed, following me down. His mouth finds mine again, hungry, desperate. Like he's drowning and I'm the only thing that can save him.
His hands slide over my skin, leaving fire in their wake. I arch against him, lost in sensation, in the feeling of being wanted completely.
This is what I've been missing, I realize. This connection, this intimacy, this feeling of mattering to someone.
His mouth moves to my neck, to my collarbone. Each kiss sends electricity through me and makes me forget why I was scared, why I was holding back.
"Alastríona," he whispers against my skin. "Are you sure about this?"
The question cuts through the haze of want, bringing reality crashing back. Am I sure? About him, about this, about risking my heart on a man whose world is built on violence?
"I—" The word catches in my throat. "I can't."
He stops immediately, pulling back to look at me. No anger in his eyes, no frustration. Just understanding.
"Okay."
"I'm sorry. I want to, but I?—"
"Hey." His voice is gentle, soothing. "You don't have to explain. You don't have to do anything you're not ready for."
"But you?—"
"I'm fine. This isn't about what I want. It's about what you're comfortable with."
He rolls off me and reaches for his shirt. No dramatics, no guilt trips. Just acceptance of my decision, even if it's not what he wanted to hear.
"Don't go," I say quickly.
"I should. Give you space to think."
"I don't want space. I want you here. Just... not like this. Not yet."
He nods, understanding, then pulls his shirt back on before settling beside me on the bed. Fully clothed now, but still close enough that I can feel his warmth.
"What’s going to happen?" I ask.
"With what?"
"When this is over, when Trace is dead and I'm safe—will you still want this? Will you still want me?"
He's quiet for a long moment, considering the question seriously.
"I don't know what the future holds," he says finally. "I don't know if I'll survive what's coming, don't know if you'll still want anything to do with me when you see what I'm capable of. But right now, in this moment, I can't imagine wanting anyone else."
Honest answer. More honest than I expected.
"That's enough," I say. "For now, that's enough."
He kisses my forehead, gentle and sweet. "Get some sleep. Tomorrow's going to be complicated."
"More complicated than today?"
"Much more."
