Page 40 of Fight

“I don’t think. I know,” I said.

She huffed. “Why do you think you know, Ioan?” she said.

“You. You’re transparent,” I said.

She lifted her eyes to mine, her deep brown irises fathomless, the orbs shiny. Then she broke the look and glanced down, then shrugged.

“Long day. Just tired, I guess,” she said.

She was lying and not well at all, but I didn’t push the matter. It wasn’t my place, and her feelings weren’t my concern, or so I tried to remind myself.

Of course, the thoughts in my head were giving lie to that. Because when she’d looked away, she’d put her cheek to me, giving me a clear view of the bruises on her face. The newest of them red, under them a darker purple, under those, a mottled green-yellow that marred her brown skin.

Rage, deep, abiding, had my heart racing.

On impulse, I grabbed her chin and tilted her head, looking at those bruises in the waning sunlight. P grimaced, but didn’t try to move away, so I studied her, tried to picture her face without Markov’s prints on it.

My eyelids drifted down, heavy with the weight of emotion I couldn’t name. And in the next breath, I brushed my lips against hers.

P

Ioan kissed me.

The contact was light, but it sent shockwaves through me, chased away every thought but him.

My eyes drifted closed, but I felt him, his lips brushing against mine again. Then he paused, lingering there, his mouth against mine, his lips lifting up into what felt like a smile.

I returned the expression, my body thrilling with the contact, Ioan’s breath mingling with mine, his warm strong body almost touching me.

Then he moved, pressed his lips against mine harder, then moved them back and forth, the softness of his lips, the hardness of his body now against mine sending sensations through me that were almost too much to handle.

I sighed hard, my lips falling open, an opportunity Ioan didn’t let pass.

He slipped his tongue into my mouth, gentle, but also commanding as he explored the cavern at the same time as he stroked his fingers against my jaw.

I had no clue why he was doing this, but I didn’t care. His kiss had scattered my thoughts and then refocused them, and every thought, every impulse, every desire, was centered on him and what his soft kiss was making me feel.

My sex clenched tight, my body needy, desperate for him in a way it had never been for anyone before. The feeling left me disoriented in the best possible way, but I reached for him, laid one hand flat against the hard plane of his chest, the other gripping his solid biceps.

I held him so tight, I worried I might hurt him, but in the next moment, I doubted anything could.

He felt strong under my hands, impossibly so, impervious to anything, especially me.

I loosened my hold, laid my other hand against his shirt, and curled my fingers into the fabric. I was rewarded by a soft chuckle, his own breath against my skin as his tongue moved inside my mouth. That soft breath, his warm body at my front, the wall at my back was amazing, beyond, and I tried to nestle closer to him.

But Ioan broke the kiss, pulled back millimeters, just enough for me to look into his darkened eyes.

They were animated by a desire I could not believe was directed at me, one I had never seen anything like.

He wasn’t looking at me like I was meat or property or something he wanted to destroy.

That in and of itself was nearly too much for me to bear.

The way he looked at me, like he wanted me, like he found me to be such an object of desire sent my already raging need into the stratosphere.

He blinked and then leaned forward again to trail his lips gently along my jaw, grazing the bruises before he moved down across my neck.

I shivered at his touch, and then did so again when he slid one hand up my waist and around to cup my breast.

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