Chapter 14: Seventy-Two Letters

He laid her down on the cold sheets and stood over her, breathing hard, with the lamp flames leaning in around the bed.

"Take it off," Sorrel said.

"Which?"

"All of it."

He stripped his shirt off over his head and let it drop.

The grey scales on his side were smooth now along the ribs, and rough only at the shoulder and the arm.

She sat up and kissed the line where the two met.

His hand closed in her hair.

"Lie back," he said.

She lay back, and he drew the rest of her gown down her legs and dropped it on the floor.

He knelt on the bed between her knees and looked at her for a long moment.

"I have wanted this since the night you came," he said. "I wanted you for six years before that, and I did not know your face."

"You know it now."

"Yes."

He bent and put his mouth on her.

She cried out and her back came off the sheets.

He licked her slowly, then harder, with his hands holding her thighs open and his thumbs pressed into the creases of her hips.

Heat rose through her belly in long pulls, and she pushed against his mouth and said his name over and over.

"Again," he said into her skin.

"Ronan, I can't."

"You can."

He slid two fingers into her and curled them, and found the place that made her sob, and kept his mouth on her clit.

She came with her heels dug into the mattress and both fists in the sheet.

He did not stop until she begged him to, and then he rose over her with his mouth wet and his eyes gone gold.

"I want you on your hands and knees," he said.

Her pulse jumped.

"Is that an order?"

"It's a request."

"Then I'll say yes."

She turned over and went up on her knees with her cheek against the pillow.

He ran his palm down her spine and gripped her hip.

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