Page 32 of The Promise Born
“Love?”
“It isn’t love for me, it’s the essence of who you are. You are love, Kiala. I can tell.” He kissed my fingertips. “I want to earn your love. I want to deserve your heart.”
“You’re going to kiss me again, aren’t you?” I asked when he looked at me with those dark eyes.
“You’re going to let me,” he inched closer, and slipped his arm around my waist. “Aren’t you?”
I nodded slowly, the anticipation building with every inch, only stopping when his lips pressed against mine.
Under the moonlight, surrounded by his hoard, our kiss deepened. It may have been improper, but at that moment, none of that mattered. Asante’s hand caressed my back, and my hands found his neck and head. I massaged the back of his neck as he pulled me to his lap. After a moment of hesitation, as our eyes met and our breath caught, we returned to our kiss.
“I want more of you.” Asante spoke, his kiss moving from my lips to my chin.
I dropped my head back and pushed my hips against him, a gentle encouragement. I wanted more, but I couldn’t say the words. He did no more. His kiss lingering, needing more from me. So, I pulled back from him, just enough to allow the moonlight to wash against the skin between us, as I slipped my hand between our bodies and confidently stroked him through his pants. I held his gaze as I moved my hand, encouraging the growth beneath my palm. That was all he needed. Asante shifted his weight, pulling a blanket from a dark corner stacked with fabric. He laid it out on the cave floor, then lowered me onto it.
“Are you sure?” he asked.
“Yes.” I said, breath heavy with anticipation.
“Your first time should be special, Kiala.”
“How innocent of you,” I smiled, returning my hand to the place between his legs.
He groaned and slammed his lips against mine. Lowering his weight on top of me as he did.
He paused as if he would ask me again. Was I ready? Was this what I wanted? My mind felt cloudy, but my body was ready to accept him.
I lifted my back from the ground, wrapping my arms around his neck to pull him closer. How could I convey to him that I wanted him? This could be the only chance we had. Soon I would fly away from my home for good, and I would take the memory of him with me.
As we kissed, his body warmed. That inner fire revealing how much he reciprocated my sentiments. As our kiss intensified, we undressed. Slowly pulling back layers of fabric to reveal our flesh. I blushed when the quick exhale crossed his lips when my breast were exposed to the moonlight. Chills spread across my skin when he pulled the dress over my hips and down my legs. The back of his fingers left a heated trail across my body.
Asante admired me. With each moment that passed, I felt more like a work of art than a woman longing for his touch. I lay bare to the world as he kneeled beside me. Then he grabbed my foot, bringing my toes to his lips, and gently kissed them before moving up to my ankle.
“Praise the gods,” he moaned the first religious sentiment I’d heard from him.
My back arched when his lips met my knee. My thighs spread, urging him to go further. And moments later, I gripped the blanket beneath us as Asante tasted me. I imagined my pastries in his hands, the sweet jelly on his lips as he coaxed me to the edge. How many ways could I feed him?
His lips left me, and my body seized with frustration. I wanted more from him. But I had to be patient, just like with my dough. I needed to give it time to rise.
Asante was an artist, painting my body with his kisses and brushes from his fingers. Again, he lowered his chest to mine, putting just enough of his weight on me to spread my legs. His hand slipped beneath my back and he positioned his dick against me. Just as he entered, he capture me with a kiss so passionate it took my breath away. I gasped as I accepted him.
He was warm, unlike the ice dragons I’d had before. It didn’t take time for him to heat up. He started hot and only got hotter. And the more his temperature rose, the more I felt the ice inside me thaw. Was this the fear our ancestors had? Would his fire kill my ice? Just as I decided it didn’t matter, I felt his lips shiver against mine.
“Are you okay?” I spoke with a soft gasp as he continued his slow strokes.
“Never better.” He grinned.
“You’re shivering.” I smiled, lifting my hips to accept more of him. “Maybe we should stop. It’s cold in here. I don’t want you to get sick.”
“That won’t happen.” He growled. “I’m fine.”
I wrapped my arms around his neck and felt the sizzle of my newfound heat against the cool of his body. Our energy had entwined and, as we continued, the cave filled with our steam.
Does he know? Why didn’t he want to stop? Is this okay?
Those thoughts flittered through my mind, but as quickly as they came, they faded away. Asante’s heat returned to him. The shivering stopped, and he continued to take me.
That night, underneath the moonlight, ignoring the world and all the problems that awaited, I gave myself to Asante.
