Page 118 of Red Demon

She pulled my head away to look into my eyes, and I relished every detail of her beautiful scarred face under the moon and stars. “That’s not reassuring.”

“Far, do you want me?” I asked, knowing she did, believing it was as simple as that. I wanted her—this. It was impossible for me to pretend otherwise a moment longer. I moved my mouth from her lips, down to her neck, kissing, tasting.

She removed the last clasp from her studded bodice and pulled it over her head, unleashing her hair with it. I took that as my answer, mesmerized by how that hair cascaded around her shoulders and how her nipples peaked their tips under her linen undershirt. I flitted over those nipples with my hands, and her head rolled back as I cupped them through the shirt, my breath fogging the winter air.

Together we lifted that shirt up over her head to free beautiful, perky breasts that took my breath away. For a moment, all I could do was stare.

“You’re beautiful, Far … the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen,” I said, voice shaking as I dipped down. I gripped her back and swirled my tongue over a perfect mound of flesh. I gripped the other and massaged it between my fingers as she writhed, pressing into me with a soft moan. “Faruhar, do you want me?”

“Yes,” she whispered, and I kissed harder at that. She rolled her hips to meet me. “I want you so much you should hate me for that alone.”

“Tried hating you already. I’m terrible at it.” I massaged those perfect little breasts one more time before I let go. My cock pulsed against my Chaeten leather pants, aching to be free. I stripped off my shirt, oblivious to the cold.

I know she’d bandaged me up before, but she studied my chest like it she’d never seen it before—running first her hand then her mouth over the scar Ash gave me—licking and kissing over my heart and down, down. When her hands grazed over my leashed cock, I growled low. She stroked a shivering finger over the fabric of my pants, up the length of me. I closed my eyes so tight I saw stars.

She pulled away—without warning.

I felt like the ground fell away beneath me without her touch. Then I saw the tears reflecting those beautiful eyes.

“How can this be real?” she said. “You’re—good, perfect.”

I stepped closer, too slow to spook her. I cupped her face, tracing the maze of thin little scars with my thumb. “Far, I—” My voice gave out before I let out too much. All the secret desires that had yet to fade, promises I’d already made whether she’d heard them or not. I couldn’t risk sharing the intensity of that to frighten her away.

“This isn’t real,” she said, voice husky. “If it is, you’ll regret this.”

“Will you?”

“No. But you should.”

I smiled, leaning in for another kiss. “No.”

She shivered, leaning into every touch in the winter chill with closed eyes. After only having her in my dreams and fantasies thus far, this felt just as unreal to me. And with each kiss, each touch…

“We’ll make it real.”

“I’ve hurt you too much to touch you like this. I killed—”

“Far,” I growled, and tried to kiss her guilt away on the line of each scar. “I know. I can take it. You don’t have to think about that now.”

She sighed into my mouth, giving me access.

“Please.”

“Just tell me this isn’t insane,” she whispered into my neck. “I trust you.”

“Far,” I said into her hair, my hands drifting in low circles down her back. “This is real. If you want me, I’m yours.” Always, the part I knew not to say.

I watched her fear melt away.

“Far, you’re safe.” I raised her chin. Maybe she’d meet my eyes to see through all my secrets, all the things I couldn’t say, and not push me away. “Yield?”

She let me kiss all her tears away. “Yield.”

I could have cried with joy, and maybe I did. It surprised me how someone who fought with some much cold cunning could be gentle and malleable to my touch. It wasn’t what I expected from her, but my cock responded to that contradiction with a throb. The hunger in her eyes was undeniable when I went to unleash her belt buckle with a clink. Her pants dropped to the forest floor. I wanted, needed, to be the one to taste her first. I dropped to my knees in front of her, a hand caressing her navel before I freed her from the last soft layer of fabric. She helped me, shrugging everything off to stand before me—a golden, stunning perfection. The lips of her labia parted like a budding flower under the moon.

I’d always thought that the first time I touched a woman would be as fumbling as the first time I touched a man, infinitely more so. On some level, I knew everyone would be different in how they wanted to be touched and tasted, whether they would lead or follow, but at least with a man I’d know where to start.

I hesitated, looking up at her from my knees.