Page 104 of Dark Night of the Soul

I looked at him. Really looked. I’d seen him shirtless before but this was different. This was permission. This was want.

Heat flooded through me. Sharp and sudden and—

There.

The cold flared in my head. Immediate. Vicious. My breath caught. My fingers dug into his shoulders, nails biting skin.

No. Not now. Not this.

I didn’t pull away this time. Couldn’t. Wouldn’t let them take this.

“Anna—”

“Don’t move,” I gritted out. “Just—don’t move.”

His hands tightened on my back. Grounding me. I closed my eyes, focused on that. On his hands. On his warmth. On the steady beat of his heart against mine.

The cold pushed. I pushed back harder.

Mine. This moment was mine.

The pressure in my head eased. My breathing steadied.

When I opened my eyes, he was watching me. Steady. Patient. Waiting.

“Okay,” I whispered. “I’m okay.”

His thumb traced small circles on my back. “You’re more than okay.”

And I believed him.

I rose up, kissed him. No hesitation this time. No cold. Heat. Want. Us.

He responded, pulling me closer. His mouth moved against mine—deeper, hungrier—and I let myself fall into it. Into him.

My hands explored freely now. The planes of his chest. The hard lines of muscle. The warmth of his skin. Every touch deliberate. Every sensation memorized.

His hands moved lower, finding the curve of my waist. My hips. I gasped against his mouth.

No cold. No threat. Pure desire.

I broke. Turned away, toward the bed and then froze. Paralyzed by indecision. Wondering was this enough?

His arm slid around my waist, his palm resting against my ribs. Not tight. Holding. His chest pressed against my back. His breath whispered along my neck.

“It doesn’t have to be now,” he said.

But if not now, then when? Because something told me I’d always have to fight this thing in my head. And if I didn’t learn to fight it, learn to keep it at bay, this was as far as we’d ever go. And that wasn’t fair to either of us.

My hand landed on his. Our fingers intertwined.

“You can touch me,” I said. “I want you to.”

Because I needed to know what would happen when he did. I needed to know if I was going to have to fight it again.

He moved his other hand along my waist. Tentative. Slow. Slipping between material and skin and moving downward. A wild heartbeat thudded against my ribcage.

He slid his hand down between my legs and the heat exploded through me.