In the Moroccan sunshine, his skin turned a molten honey while his hair carried nightmares itself. His eyes, with its secrets and hidden windows, were wide and full of dazzling heat.
His head bowed as his hands dragged me forward. Without thinking, my body turned supple, bending into him as my chin tipped up.
Whatever this was, we didn’t choreograph it. Something else did. Something neither of us could ignore.
His hands slipped around my back, bracing me against his body. My belly hit his waistband and my spine arched as he pressed his hardening erection into me.
I didn’t think about where we were or who was watching. Nothing else existed but him and me and whatever this searing connection was.
“Fuck…” His eyes dropped to my lips.
I licked them, not in invitation but because my mouth watered for a kiss. His kiss. The kiss I wanted because his hands were on me in protection, not damnation. The kiss I wanted to build on the one he’d given back when my existence had been ripped apart.
One hand gripped my lower spine while the other crept up my back. He wasn’t gentle; he didn’t apologise for pressing bruises or gathering me so tight I couldn’t breathe.
I didn’t care.
For some reason, his violence was acceptable, not just accepted…wanted. Desperately wanted.
My fingers came up, clutching his biceps as he bent me deeper into him. His every muscle, his every breath and heat, fed into my body, making me wet for the first time since I could remember.
I didn’t know how to describe it as my body shed its hardened exterior and swelled and liquefied. It took back what had been stolen and lusted. Lusted after being taught lust was so awfully wrong.
His breath scattered over my lips as he dragged me the final distance.
My eyes fluttered to half mast, entirely drunk and willing and wanting and waiting and—
“Shit.” Elder stumbled, pushing me away so I wouldn’t trip with him. His face etched in feral need, waging with anger at the interruption.
His head whipped to the side just in time to see the dog on the piece of string barrel down the road with the kid in tow. He must’ve run into us, locked unmovable in the street.
As suddenly as the moment had happened, it ended.
Elder wrenched his hands from me.
I sucked in a ragged breath, unable to control the leaping lemmings that’d replaced my blood.
What the hell was that?
And what would’ve happened if the dog hadn’t run into us? Would we have kissed? Would we have lost ourselves in the middle of a congested country where public displays of affection were a criminal offence?
Spinning on his heel, Elder clamped both hands on his head, staring at the sun. With his back to me, I didn’t catch what he said, but his curse curdled the perfumed air with untold frustration.
While away from the intensity of his stare, I wiped my lips, flinching at how sensitive they were. Dropping my hands down my front—trying to get myself under control—I shivered as my nipples tingled against the dress.
The foreign wetness remained slick on my inner thigh. Not wearing underwear made what’d happened unmistakable. A rainbow of pride filled me that even after two years of abuse, after promising I would never tolerate sex or lust, my body had found a way to heal just enough to accept a kiss.
From Elder at least.
I picked at the scabs in my mind from everything Alrik had done, hoping to see if perhaps, one day, I could tolerate more than just a kiss from a man who hopefully might earn my trust. But the minute I thought of naked bodies and entwined thrusting, a cold sweat drenched me; a panic attack snaked through my desire, turning it into rancid sickness.
I gulped at the suddenness of how something so desirable could turn into something horrific.
Elder spun around, dropping his hands. “I didn’t mean—” His arm came up.
All I saw was pain. I cringed, taking a step back.
He stiffened, looking from his me to his arm. Accusation and disappointment replaced whatever attraction remained in his eyes. “I wasn’t going to hit you.” His nostrils flared. “Fuck, what the hell happened between us? You fell, I caught you.” He pinched the bridge of his nose. “I told you I was doing my best around you, Pim, but Christ you felt good in my arms.”
A swarm of locals cascaded around us like a swiftly flowing river around a boulder in its path.
Elder didn’t notice. “You didn’t fight me.” His voice lowered. “You responded. You wanted me to kiss you. Are you going to stand there and fucking deny it?”
I looked down, rubbing my arm as prickles raced over my skin.
“You wanted me, yet now you look as if I was about to bloody rape you. You’re still afraid I’ll hurt you, even now?”