Page 52 of Branded By Shadow
The question is quiet.
Serious.
My face heats again. “A little.”
His eyes sharpen. “Was it too much?”
“No.” I swallow. “Just… enough to remember.”
Something dark and satisfied moves across his face.
“There she is,” he murmurs.
“What?”
“My brave little hellcat.”
My stomach dips.
That nickname should not do this to me. It should make me roll my eyes or threaten him with vending machine cookies.
Instead, it makes me want to crawl under his skin and live there like a deeply inappropriate parasite.
His hand slides from my stomach to my hip, stopping there.
Waiting.
He’s letting me decide.
I hate how much I like that.
I turn slowly beneath his arm until I’m facing him. The blanket shifts, and cool air brushes my bare shoulder. His gaze follows it, hot enough to make me forget the room smells like bleach and bad life choices.
“You didn’t let me touch you before,” I whisper.
His jaw tightens. “After I finished inside you?”
I nearly choke. “Could you maybe not say things like that in your murder voice?”
“That wasn’t my murder voice.”
“There are categories?”
“Several.”
“Comforting.”
His mouth twitches, but his eyes stay on mine.
“You needed rest,” he says.
“I’m awake now.”
The words come out softer than I mean them to.
His body goes still.
Completely still.
