Page 74 of Artemysia
My mouth opens, and I pick the last thought. “I want more with you.”
“You liked that, huh? Already asking for seconds?” she says wryly, but her smile is contagious.
“Shit, that’s not what I meant. I’m not expressive with my feelings.”
Her voice drops, turning low and careful. “I care about you too, and I also wish we could have more than we have right now.”
My heart comes back to life. What in the world did I do to deserve her?
“See, that’s perfect. You win. You’ll speak for the both of us.”
“Expressing feelings isn’t a competition, Riev.”
“You’re right, you’re right.”
“At least, not oneyou’rewinning.”
“What? Why you little—” I bury my face in her neck, nipping the skin with my teeth, just to hear that small gasp.
“I like hearing it from you, though.” Her fingers graze my forearm, absently playing with the leather brace on my wrist.
I take a deep breath, for courage—different than the courage I draw upon every day. I’m not fighting Syf. I’m fighting my own withered heart. “Elphie, I trust you, and care about you. I want you to be…my first.”
“First?” Her eyes are soft under her dark lashes, questioning.
“First time. If you want to. When we are ready.”
She takes my hand and strokes the back of my palm. The hairs on my arm rise.
“Why have you waited?” Her tone is gentle; she doesn’t judge. “You’ve done everything else, you said. With other women. Was it only for their pleasure?”
“I didn’tnotenjoy it,” I grumble, unwilling to elaborate.
She eyes me. “Were you…searching for someone, something? A connection?”
“Don’t overthink it. You’re reading too much into it,” I say dismissively, hoping she will drop it.
But she’s too perceptive. “Okay. But I think you have a soft side.”
“Nothing about me is soft.”
“Your hair is.”
“I do like it when my mouth is on your cunt and you’re guiding my head with your fingers dipped in my hair to show me what you want,” I retort.
“That’s not going to be happening if you don’t answer honestly.”
She wins. I love the fiendish gleam in her brown eyes, her wickedly adorable smile, but most of all, her ability to make me comfortable and laugh when I’m at my most vulnerable.
“I can’t risk it.”
“What do you mean?”
“If I let go, if I lose control. I don’t know what might happen. You’ve seen my scars, my violence. How I’m…different. If I am half Syf, it means I’m half beast. And I don’t ever want to lose control and be like them.”
She kicks out a leg as a spark from the fire lands near her boot. “But just now…you were in control.”
“I can’t explain it. It’s like when I’m fighting for my life againstSyf, I feel like I’m someone else. Another side of me comes out. It’s powerful and frightening, and it keeps me alive, but I almost lose myself.” I pause. “Like when I dream,” I add quietly.
