“Oh man, I thought you’d never ask.” He didn’t think he’d be asking either. But then again, he had to do something to make sense of the emotion that had come upon him as he’d touched her. The childish, primitive need to hold someone and be held in return. You wanted comfort for your grief. The idea seemed logical yet he still wasn’t clear as to whether he even felt grief, let alone the need to be comforted for it. Lust made more sense to him. That he could identify. That he could handle. Yet it felt more than lust. An unidentified emotion inside him wanted to keep her here with him. Something in her soft, wet warmth. Something in the scent of her as he’d buried his face in her neck and smelled rain and roses. Something that had reminded him of the only time in his life when he’d been truly at peace. “There are conditions,” he said hoarsely. There had to be. He couldn’t allow himself another loss of control like he had back in the lounge.
What do You think about Black Knight, White Queen?
