Page 295 of Immune

“Because of me?” she asks.

“No.”

Her eyes drop to my side where the stitches pull when I breathe too deeply. I know the exact moment she sees it.

“Because you’re hurt,” she says.

“It’s just an inconvenient blooper.”

“Kaito.”

“I can stop.”

“That’s not what I asked and you know it,” she almost snaps, that anger coming back.

It almost makes me smile.

Instead, I tell her, “No, I’m not holding back because I’m scared of you.”

She stares at me, then lifts her chin higher. Not empty now, not gone, but very present. Demanding. Choosing.

I let my restraint morph into something else, and my hands leave the wall to grip her hips hard, exactly where she told me I could. I pull her into me and kiss her until her breath shatters against my mouth.

She moans and the sound shoots straight through me.

I turn us before she can be pinned too long, walking her backward toward the center of the mat instead of keeping her against the wall. She follows willingly, her fingers working at my belt, still not fully steady.

I keep my hands planted on her hips and let her fight with the buckle. I let her decide whether she wants this enough to keep going.

When it finally relents, her breath leaves her in a sharp little sound. Her eyes lift to mine and I see the fear that’s still there. But under it, there’s so much want.

Clear.

Chosen.

Mine to answer, but not mine to take.

I undo the clasp of her bra only after she gives me the go-ahead, and she watches me the whole time. When it falls, she raises her chin as if she’s expecting the look to hurt.

It does, but not in the way she thinks. It’s not because of the blood or the bruises. It’s because she’s standing in front of me asking to be seen, and I have wanted her for long enough that it feels like something cracks open in my ribs.

“You’re doing the face again,” she mutters.

“What face?”

“The intense one.”

“I think that’s just my face,” I tell her.

Her mouth opens, and then it closes. This time, she doesn’t even try to make the joke that balances on the tip of her tongue. Instead, she reaches for me and I go willingly, bending slightly so I can reach her breasts.

I kiss one with blood still smudged on my lips and she curses under her breath. Her knees bend and I manage to catch her by the hips.

“Still with me?”

“Yeah.”

“Good.”