Page 60 of Fifty First Times (Sharing You 0.40)
What did that mean?
“Don’t be afraid of me,” he said. “If you need me to stop, I will. I don’t mind waiting for you.”
She bit her lip and glanced at their linked fingers. “I’ve already made you wait.”
“There’s no hurry. We have a lifetime to get this right.”
Lyra recalled what he’d told her just minutes ago: Sleeping beside you all these nights—never touching you—has driven me half mad. Now she understood her mother’s remark about generosity. Kai was well within his rights to make demands of her. If their union faltered, so would the peace between their people, and he could use that threat to force her into his arms under duress.
But he didn’t do that, and she wouldn’t make him wait any longer.
They locked eyes, and something within Lyra shifted. A tiny kernel of warmth burst and took root directly behind her breastbone like a seed planted in fertile soil. Perhaps she didn’t love Kai now, but she had faith that someday she would.
“I’m not afraid.”
She eliminated the space between them, locking both arms around his neck as she kissed him with all the gratitude in her heart. He responded with a moan that vibrated against her chest, and within minutes, they were both fighting for oxygen. When Kai hooked a finger around the waist of her shorts, he glanced at her and waited for a nod of consent before tugging them over her hips and down to her ankles, where she kicked them free. After peeling off his breeches, he settled beside her, his leg hair tickling her thighs.
Slowly, he rotated their bodies until he lay atop her, supporting most of his weight on one elbow. While they kissed, he used his free hand to brush back the hair from her face and stroke her cheek. Then he moved his fingers lower, sweeping down the length of her neck and far beyond.
He caressed her in places that made the breath lock inside her throat,
all the while whispering Seryn in her ear. Though she couldn’t interpret the murmurings, they seemed more scandalous than before, which only served to quicken her racing pulse.
The longer it went on, the tighter her muscles coiled. Soon Lyra could barely hear him over the choppy pull of air into her lungs. Her heels dug into the mattress, but for what, she didn’t understand. A heavy tension was building inside her, heightening to a nearly painful intensity. Just when she thought she couldn’t bear it another second, the pressure broke into the sweetest release she’d ever known—a set of involuntary tremors, like a convulsion from deep within her belly. Her lips parted in a strangled cry until the quaking ceased and she drifted back down.
Dazed, she caught her breath and wondered what had just happened. Whatever that was, she wanted more of it.
She gazed at Kai, awed by the way he knew her body better than she did. Still drugged by bliss, she spoke without thinking. “You’ve done this before.”
The words sounded like an accusation, and she regretted them at once.
Her face heated with embarrassment. Of course he had done this before. Kai was in his twenty-first year. He’d attended military academy and had toured in the last war. He was handsome and strong and turned nearly every girl’s head within his father’s estate. Unlike her, he hadn’t been sheltered all his life inside the walls of an impenetrable compound.
Surely he had done this many times . . . with many girls.
Kai didn’t deny it. He stared at her, frozen and wide-eyed, clearly grappling for the right response.
“I’m sorry,” Lyra said. “It’s none of my concern.”
But despite her dismissal, she couldn’t stop jealousy from twisting her stomach when she imagined who else had shared Kai’s bed. Was it the pretty seamstress who’d hemmed his tunic yesterday? The shapely young cook who had severed their supper? Her own round-faced ladies’ maid—the one who adored the color of his eyes? Had he loved any of those girls? Was he thinking of them while he was touching her?
Lyra tried shoving down the negative emotions. She had no right to judge Kai for what he had done before they’d met—if anything, she should feel grateful to the women who’d made him so skilled. Besides, she barely knew him, so why should she care about his past?
But she couldn’t help it. She cared.
“It’s true,” he admitted softly. “There have been others.”
Lyra turned her head aside. “Please forget I said anything.”
“Look at me.” He paused until she met his gaze. “You’re the only one now. I swore to it several days ago, but I’ll swear it again if you want me to.”
“It doesn’t matter.”
“Doesn’t it?” He arched a brow. “We’re handfasted. Bound for life. Your faithfulness matters to me.”
“You already have it.”
“And you have mine.” He lowered onto her body until she was pressed into the mattress. His solid weight brought with it an odd sense of security, and she slipped both arms around his broad back to pull him closer. Before their lips met, he told her, “There are no ghosts inside this chamber. I’m not thinking of anyone but you.” He brushed her mouth. “Can you say the same?”
